After All This Time
by ElleMartin
Summary: Hermione is a forty-two year old divorced workaholic. Tired of being raked through the mud in the Prophet's gossip columns, she decides that it's time to make some new headlines at the 25th Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. But will a chance encounter in the prefect carriage on the Hogwarts Express derail her plans? Slow-burn Dramione.
1. Chapter 1

Hermione Granger rushed through the crowds of King's Cross towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. She was running later than she would have preferred, yet still hopeful that she would beat most of the others. With barely a glance spared at the passing Muggles, Hermione didn't slow her pace as she stepped right through the barrier that led the way to Platform nine and ¾ and the Hogwarts Express. Finally, she let out a sigh of relief as she looked around the empty platform.

The train stood there ready to cart the witches and wizards off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This time however, it would be scores of adults being transported off to the castle having been invited weeks ago to a memorial ball to commemorate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. The invitees had all been given the option to either ride the train or apparate to Hogsmeade, the wizarding village adjacent to Hogwarts. Hermione had opted for the train, and planned on using the extra time to gear up for seeing her former classmates.

Hermione spent a moment gazing around the empty platform. She'd been here countless times over the years, but now it harkened her back to the very first time almost thirty-one years ago. She'd arrived early then as well, anxious about the new world that awaited her and eager to change into her stiff new robes and try out her brand new wand. Back then she'd been just another faceless first year in a sea of students. Now she was a member of the famed "golden trio", known to witches and wizards all over the world as a hero of sorts. She sure didn't feel like a hero anymore.

Hermione jumped as she heard voices coming through the steam from over by the barrier. Quickly, she pulled herself up onto the train and began her march towards the front carriages, pausing when she reached the prefects compartment. Her plan was to hide in the prefects carriage on the journey to Hogwarts, and avoid the others. She just hoped that no one else had the same idea. She assumed everyone else would be so excited to see their old classmates that no one would bother seeking out the exclusive and secluded carriage. Hermione slipped inside and began placing locking charms on the door. Satisfied, she collapsed on one of the sofas inside the carriage and debated a nap while she waited the rest of the hour till the train departed. Her mind was too restless though. She sat back up and surveyed her surroundings.

It looked just the same as it had the first time. Plush velvet sofas, worn down from teenaged behinds, in all the various colors of the Hogwarts houses. Hermione could almost feel the weight of her shiny prefect badge on her shirt. Something moving caught her eye on the sofa opposite her and she reached out. It was an issue of the wizarding newspaper, The Daily Prophet. A student must have left it behind on their journey to school back in September since the paper was dated in August. Maybe it had even been her own daughter Rose, her pride and joy, who was completing her seventh and last year at Hogwarts and had been chosen as Head Girl. Curious, Hermione opened the crinkly pages to see what all they held, immediately wishing she hadn't bothered. There it was. The picture. Smack dab in the middle of the page she saw her own face and knew in an instant the article that accompanied it, having had it tattooed on her brain since it debuted.

The picture had been taken on the London Underground one evening as Hermione had been on her way home from the Ministry after a long day at work. It had been the same day, in fact, that over the course of her lunch break she had signed her name as a Weasley for the last time and her divorce had been finalized. Never in her life would she have imagined that a Daily Prophet photographer would be traveling on the Underground at the same time and forever immortalizing her in such a sad state. Even in black and white, the grey strands stood out liberally in her hair, the dark circles under her eyes seemed more pronounced. To add to her embarrassment she had been caught swiping tzatziki sauce from her shirt with her finger then licking it off for all eternity.

The first time she'd seen the photo and read the article that spilled all of the secrets of her divorce and Ron's new love interest, she'd hidden herself away in her flat with several bottles of wine and demolished her stash of chocolate frogs. She'd barely managed enough strength to see her children off on September first, and had hidden in the back of the crowd the entire time. As soon as she'd hugged her kids and they'd boarded the train, Hermione had apparated back to her flat without another glance at her ex-husband and his girlfriend. Ugh. Girlfriend. It seemed such an odd word once you passed the age of forty. Hermione tossed the newspaper back to the other sofa and lay back down. The voices outside on the platform and in the corridor were getting louder and more plentiful. Feeling safe in her locking charms effectiveness, she allowed the din of the voices to lull her off to sleep.

She found herself standing at the top of the staircase leading down to the entrance hall of Hogwarts. There below her congregated a sea of familiar faces all looking up as she began to make her grand entrance. This is what she'd been preparing for since she first received the invitation for the Memorial Ball. This was her redemption, her coming out after that ghastly picture in the Prophet. Her hair had been colored a beautiful rich chestnut and her sleek curls hung down her back. She had been practicing contouring spells and her makeup was now flawless, banishing any wrinkles and hopefully making her look ten years younger. The Gryffindor red dress had been custom ordered from Twillfit and Tattings to ensure she'd be the only one wearing the design. She conceded that it was much more daring than she would normally ever step out in public in, but it hugged her curves, slimmed her wobbly bits, and showed off her entire back. Hermione Granger was looking to make a splash in what would be her first real public outing since the divorce.

It was like the Yule Ball all over again. She could hear the whispers asking if it could really be Hermione descending the staircase. She caught sight of Ron and his girlfriend standing right at the bottom of the stairs, and planted a beatific smile on her face. Her old friend Harry Potter, the defeater of Voldemort and savior of the wizarding world, was on the other side of Ron with his mouth agape as his wife Ginny whispered in his ear. Hermione could even see their old nemesis Draco Malfoy smirking up at her from the middle of the crowd. These stairs seemed to go on forever, and she found herself pausing as the whispers grew louder.

"What is she wearing?"

"Wow, I can't believe she's here."

"How pathetic."

Pathetic? And wait, what was wrong with her dress? It was perfectly modest from the front! She glanced down self-consciously to ensure the tight dress hadn't ripped. Instead of red silk however, she was adorned in a full skirt of white lace. Hermione glanced at her arms and saw the long flowing sleeves of white as well. This was her wedding dress. Why was she in her wedding dress? There was a mirror to the left of the stairs and when she saw her reflection, she nearly screamed in fright. There she stood, her hair fully grey, and her face so covered in wrinkles and crags she would not have recognized herself, dressed in her wedding robes. The white lace was yellowing before her very eyes. She was the Mrs. Havisham of Hogwarts. She stumbled, and began tumbling down the endless staircase as the crowd jeered.

Hermione came to on the floor of the prefects carriage. Her fall had been caused by the train beginning it's journey to Hogwarts. She stood and began dusting off her robes.

"Granger?"


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione would know that voice anywhere. She turned and sure enough there stood Draco Malfoy, one hand hovering over a whiskey decanter, the other gripping his wand. She wagered a bet with herself that he'd smuggled the whiskey onto the train.

"What are you doing in here?" She demanded.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, pocketed his wand, and resumed pouring his drink. "I should have known those were your locking spells. They were so…. textbook."

"You didn't answer my question," Hermione said with a glare.

"The same thing you're doing in here, I assume." Malfoy shrugged. He hesitated over his glass, then pulled his wand back out, and conjured another and began filling it. He then turned and brought both glasses to where she was still standing by the couch and offered her one of the drinks. She eyed it warily.

"Really Granger?" he scoffed. "You watched me pour it. There's no poison, I promise."

Reluctantly, she reached out her hand to take the proffered glass. "So what do you assume I'm doing in here then?"

"Cheers," he said. They clinked glasses and each took a sip. "I assume you're hiding."

With a small cough from the burn of the firewhiskey she asked, "Why would I be hiding?"

"So full of questions though, what else should I expect from Hermione Granger?" Draco drawled. "Most likely you're hiding because you don't want to face everyone and answer endless questions about your divorce and how you're coping. Oh yes, I read the Daily Prophet, Granger. Or is it still Weasley?"

"Granger's fine," she said, looking down at her drink. "I haven't been Weasley for some time now."

Hermione turned and sat back down on the couch. Draco took a seat on the couch opposite, lifting up the old issue of the Prophet before he sat on it.

"I must say, you're looking better than this old rag made you out to be. Divorce suits you, Granger."

"Thank you?" Hermione was confused. Had that been a compliment? Malfoy was being particularly nice and it was throwing her off guard. She decided that as long as he was cordial, she would play along. "And how have you been, Malfoy? Is your family well?"

He settled back into the couch and took a long pull off of his drink before answering. "Everyone's well. The Malfoy enterprises run themselves, and I'm fortunate enough to be able to stay at the Manor and occupy my time with hobbies. My son, Scorpius, is in his final year at Hogwarts, though I'm sure you know that. Especially since he's the Head Boy to your daughter's Head Girl."

She nodded. "Yes, Rose speaks of him often. You and Astoria have done a fine job of raising him."

Malfoy's eyes widened slightly. "Thank you, Granger. He's my pride and joy."

There was a slight pause in the conversation and Hermione began fidgeting awkwardly with her glass.

"And how is Astoria? Is she well?"

"I assume so," he answered. "We don't see each other much since the divorce."

"Oh!" Hermione blushed. "I'm so sorry, I hadn't heard."

"It's alright, Granger," he said, waving off her apology. "It happened a couple years back. We tried to keep it quiet for Scorpius' sake."

She nodded in understanding. "Yes, it's so upsetting when all of the gory details get aired out and the children have to hear everything."

"Yes," Malfoy agreed. "You just want to shelter them. Let them hear only what you told them, that you'll always love each other, but you just can't be married to each other anymore."

"Hmm, if only it were so easy. Instead, my kids were witnesses to _that_." She pointed at the newspaper that had been tossed on the floor. "So, who asked who to leave?"

He sighed. "It was a mutual decision. And you?"

She frowned, disappointed in his vague answer. "I asked him to leave."

"Best decision you ever made, Granger. You were always too good for the Weasel." Malfoy stood and headed to the decanter to refill his drink. "So what made you do it?"

Hermione shrugged. "Things just changed."

"Oh, come on, Granger." He walked back to his seat and Hermione recognized his smirk hadn't changed. "I want details! Was it ugly? Did he cry? Tell me everything."

"Why should I?" She asked. "You didn't give me any!"

"Okay, but it can't leave this carriage." He waited for her nod of assent before continuing.

"Astoria and I had somewhat of an arranged marriage. I honestly didn't think my parents would still go through with it after the war. You see, my parents, no matter what happened that day at Hogwarts, never fully changed their beliefs about pure blood supremacy. The Greengrasses did and they weren't shy about letting anyone know."

"And you?" she asked as he paused to take a sip of his whiskey. "Have you changed your beliefs?"

Malfoy looked her straight in the eyes. "Yes Granger. My beliefs changed around the same time I saw you tortured on my drawing room floor."

Hermione stared into his silvery eyes for several seconds, stunned by the fierceness shining in them. She took a long swallow of her drink to break the tension. She wasn't ready to face those memories just yet.

"Please continue your story," she croaked.

"Where was I? Oh yes. So, Astoria and I had known each other for quite some time and in all honesty, we weren't that opposed to the arrangement. My parents weren't too thrilled with their new daughter in law and her 'liberal' ways, however. They thought she was a bad influence on me, bringing me to her side of the pure blood debate. They didn't realize that I had been converted before the battle."

"And is that what caused your problems?" she pressed. "All of the family tension?"

Malfoy laughed. "No, no, nothing like that. You see, Astoria and I had become very good friends and allies. We were able to withstand my parents and their prejudices easily."

Hermione frowned. "Then what happened? I must say, your marriage sounds positively idyllic."

Malfoy leaned closer. "Astoria had a secret." He leaned back and continued.

"Now this is the part you must not share with anyone. Despite our closeness, I learned soon after the wedding that Astoria hadn't been entirely honest with me. The reason she had agreed to the marriage so readily is because she knew it would get her out of her parents' house so that she could hope to live her life the way she wanted. The Greengrasses may have changed their views on supremacy, but in other areas, they are sadly behind the times."

"I'm confused," Hermione said. "Wanting out of your parents' house isn't a secret."

"Astoria's a lesbian."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Well, now. That _is_ a secret."


	3. Chapter 3

Draco settled deeper into the couch, kicking his legs up onto the cushions.

"Now, Granger," he said. "I think that's enough details from me. You now know more about my divorce than anyone outside of Astoria and myself. I think that entitles me to your story. What did Weasel do to make you kick him out? Did he cheat?"

"I think I need another drink." Hermione stood and crossed over to the whiskey decanter. She was uncomfortable having the spotlight back on her. "I want to know more. The wizarding world is very accepting of same sex relationships. Why does Astoria not want people to know?"

"The wizarding world is accepting, yes. Her parents are not. Now, details, Granger. It's only fair."

"I told you, things changed." She sighed and made her way back to her couch. She took a big drink of her whiskey and launched into her tale.

"After the war, I went back to school," she began. "Obtaining my NEWTs was always important to me if I wanted a chance at working in the Ministry. Ronald and Harry, however, went straight to Auror training. It didn't seem like such a bad deal at first. We owled each other frequently and they came to see me in Hogsmeade every chance they had. Ronald and I had begun our relationship just after the war, and almost immediately he was planning a future for us. I was so swept up in being with him after wanting him for years and was carried away with his plans just as much as he was.

"He talked of marriage and family, and while I really wasn't ready for that, I thought I could stall him and focus on my career. Upon leaving Hogwarts, I took the first ministry job I could with big dreams of changing the world."

"Yes, yes, I know all about your career," he stated. "Our elves have never been happier. Now what about your marriage?"

"Ronald proposed a week after I started work. I admit, at the time I felt as though I had everything I'd dreamed of. I had Ron's ring on my finger and a career where I could make a difference. His mother Molly began planning our wedding almost the moment I accepted Ron's proposal. I had very little say, and I wanted a long engagement. I couldn't help it. After years of helping Harry and Ron and saving the world, I just wanted more time to figure out life. You know, buy my own flat, advance in my department, get to know myself. Those kinds of things. Yet we were married within a year and suddenly I was a wife."

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow. "Not everything you imagined?"

Hermione scowled. "He wanted me to be his mother. Do all of the cooking, cleaning, and get started on popping out babies. I'm not a housewife, nor have I ever wanted to be. I wanted children, but certainly not as many as he was dreaming about, and I did not want them right away. I began to feel like my life was no longer my own. The only place I truly felt like me anymore was at work, so I dove in headfirst.

"We worked that way for awhile. Ronald had his Auror duties, I was making a name for myself at the Ministry. He saw that work made me happy, and if there's one thing I can say about him, Ron always wanted me to be happy."

"So what changed?" Malfoy asked.

"I got pregnant with Rose." She shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, I love my children. They are my world, my pride and joy just as you said. But I struggled at first with motherhood. Ronald had it in his mind that I would stay home once we had kids, that I would just give up everything I had worked so hard for! And I tried, I really did. I just couldn't. I love my family, but I love my job too. Is that so wrong?"

Malfoy shook his head in answer and she continued.

"When Ron couldn't talk me into staying home with the kids, he decided to quit his Auror job and go work for George at the joke shop. He never even discussed it with me! He said it was so he could be more available for the children. He could take them to the shop with him even. I know he didn't mean to make me feel like a poor mother, but he did. And that's when the resentments started creeping in."

"Ah resentment," Malfoy sneered. "I'm very familiar with it. Go on."

"Yes, well, as I said, Ron was with the children more than I was, yet somehow the discipline for them was left to me. He would give them a small scolding if he absolutely needed to, but for more serious infractions it was always 'Just wait till your mother gets home', which in turn made me the bad guy with the kids. Needless to say, they took his side in the divorce." Hermione looked away, blinking back a few tears. It still hurt so much.

"And what exactly was his side?" Malfoy pressed.

"Oh, the usual," she said. "I wasn't willing to work on our problems. I was overreacting over little things. He never wanted the divorce. Like I hadn't tried for nearly twenty years of marriage before I couldn't take anymore."

"So what was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back?"

"Honestly?" she asked. "It was when the children left for school and Ronald and I were by ourselves again for the first time in over ten years. You would have thought it would be the perfect time to work out our problems, reconnect, and have lots of sex. Sadly, it just seemed to magnify every little issue. I was never home, he was never serious, I was bossy, he took me for granted. A couple of months after Hugo started at Hogwarts, I sat Ronald down and told him that I wanted a separation. He stayed with Harry and Ginny for a little while, till the kids came home for Christmas break. We had a nice family dinner with them, and Ronald told them we were getting divorced and that I would be getting my own place."

"What?" Malfoy scoffed. "But you had kicked him out."

Hermione nodded. "And in return _he_ kicked _me_ out. I was shocked. He did it in front of the kids, what was I to do? By the time they were back on the train, I had my own little flat in Muggle London, with three bedrooms so the kids would have their own spaces, but they chose him. They've never even stayed overnight with me. And to make matters worse, Ronald, for all his protestations that he didn't want the divorce, was parading his new girlfriend around within a month."

"What an idiot," Malfoy growled.

"Thank you," Hermione said with a small smile. She took another sip of her drink. "You know, I have certainly told you more than anyone else knows about my divorce. Harry and Ginny never really asked for my side, and since they're still Ronald's family, they just stopped coming around to see me. It's been a rather lonely time."

She looked down at the whiskey in her hands, then looked back at Malfoy with wide eyes. "Did you put veritaserum in this?"

Malfoy sneered back at her. "Granger, once again, you saw me pour the drinks. You know I didn't add anything to them. So are you proposing that I for some unfathomable reason added veritaserum to my own decanter of firewhiskey not knowing that you would be here to share it with me? Besides, I would think that such a formidable witch as yourself has probably given yourself veritaserum before so that you would know how the effects feel in case of an unwilling interrogation."

Hermione blushed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I just find it a little hard to believe that you and I are sitting here being so companionable and forthcoming with each other. I mean, we've always hated each other."

"Oh Granger," he smiled. "I don't think I ever really hated you. I was annoyed by you, but I learned what hate really is, and, no, I never hated you."

She stared for a moment, unsure what to say next. "Malfoy, I-"

"Shh!" He held up a hand to her, silencing her as he listened to a voice coming from the hallway.

"This is the prefects carriage," a man was saying. "You know, I was made prefect in fifth year over Harry."

Hermione paled as she and Malfoy stared at the door. When they heard the voice muttering about the locked door, Malfoy grinned. He walked over to the door, brandishing his wand, and undoing his spells on the door that he'd put up to replace Hermione's. He then slid open the carriage door.

"Weasel. To what do we owe the pleasure?"


	4. Chapter 4

There in the doorway to the prefects carriage stood Hermione's ex-husband and another member of the Golden Trio, Ron Weasley. He at first appeared shocked by the sudden appearance of Draco Malfoy and stood there gaping like a fish. Slowly though, his mouth closed into a tense line and his eyebrows drew together. Hermione could see a flush rising up to his face from his neck. To say these two men had never gotten along would be a gross understatement. This would not be pretty.

"Malfoy," Ron growled out. He peeked around Draco's shoulder to see who was standing behind him. "And… Mione! What are you doing here?"

"Me?" Hermione pushed past Draco to stand in front of her ex-husband, hands on her hips. "What am I doing here? What are you doing here? We agreed that I would ride the train, and you would apparate to Hogsmeade because you wanted to spend time with our children before I got there!"

"Yes, well, I changed my mind!" Ron spluttered. "I decided I wanted to show Gabrielle the train!" He motioned to Gabrielle Delacour, his girlfriend, standing shyly at his side. Hermione rolled her eyes at the way the petite blonde seemed to be tugging at Ronald's sleeve like a child.

"Did you at least let the children know you wouldn't be there to meet them?" Hermione demanded.

"Yes, of course!" Ron stated. "Now answer my question! What are you doing in here with him?"

Malfoy sidled back up next to Hermione, smirk firmly in place, and draped an arm across her shoulders.

"Didn't you know, Weasel?" he asked. "Hermione's my date for the ball."

Hermione gasped. Well, that was news to her. Luckily, Ron was too busy glaring at Malfoy to have heard her startled exclamation.

"You're joking, right?" he asked. "Hermione would never go anywhere with the likes of you."

Malfoy tutted. "Well, she is. Now, if you'll excuse us."

He shut the door in Ron's face, and immediately set the locking charms back in place before crossing back over to the couches.

"How the brightest witch of our age ever ended up with that dunce, I will never know," he muttered. "And 'Mione'? What was that about?"

"To be honest, I always hated that nickname," she said, wandering slowly back to her seat. "I spent ages teaching an international Quidditch star how to pronounce my name correctly, for crying out loud! I don't know why Ronald ever thought I was okay with being called Mione."

"Ugh, I tried, really I did!" she groaned, collapsing onto the couch. "He started calling me that awful name sometime after we started dating, and I tried to express my displeasure, but he just never picked up on it."

"Doesn't surprise me that Weasley's too thick to pick up on something," he chuckled.

"Oh hush," she grinned. She picked her drink back up, staring at it thoughtfully. "It's been so long since I had any firewhiskey. At this rate I'll be quite pissed before the trolley comes round!"

"Please, Granger," Draco drawled. "You haven't even finished your second glass yet."

She felt her cheeks flush. "I know. I guess I'm still just trying to justify why we're getting along so well. It just doesn't make any sense."

"It's like you said earlier. You've been lonely since the divorce. I can relate."

Hermione let out a very unladylike snort. "Doubtful. I'd wager that you have loads of friends ready at your beck and call to listen to you piss and moan your troubles away."

Malfoy's face turned very serious. "I actually have very few people in my life that I can trust with my secrets. I can count them all on one hand in fact."

"So why trust me?" she whispered.

"Let's just say that I can recognize a kindred spirit."

With a clearing of her throat, she asked, "And the ball?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I'm single, you're single. I think the last couple of hours has proven that we could enjoy each other's company long enough."

Hermione debated his words for a moment. He made some good points. And knowing that Ron would be there with Gabrielle Delacour on his arm had Hermione wanting to stand out in a fabulous way at the ball. She hadn't attended any events since she and Ron had separated. She went to work early every morning, stayed holed up in her office, even taking lunch in her office most days. Her weekends were spent curled up in her apartment with her three cats and her books. The most anybody had seen of her in the last two years was that offensive picture from the Prophet. Hence why she'd colored her hair and started applying potions to it regularly, and practicing her makeup charms every morning for the last few weeks, not to mention the amount of time and money she'd spent on the gorgeous red dress. She wanted to make a splash, and having Draco Malfoy as her date would definitely do that.

"Okay, I'm in," she declared.

"Perfect." He grinned and Hermione briefly wondered if she'd just made a deal with the devil.

"Should we have some ground rules?" she asked.

"If you want," he agreed. "I don't really see the need though."

"Oh, I do," she answered. "You say now that you never truly hated me, but it sure didn't feel that way twenty-five to thirty years ago and the same goes for all of the Slytherins."

"Well, you Gryffindors weren't any better!" he argued. "For every hex we threw your way, you hurled one right back."

"True," she conceded. "Which is why I think we need ground rules to ensure that we don't ruin the Memorial Ball with another battle breaking out."

"Okay, fine. Where should we start?"


	5. Chapter 5

When the Hogwarts Express arrived in Hogsmeade, they were greeted with dark skies and rain-splattered windows. Hermione sighed, pulled her hair back in a quick bun, and secured the hood of her cloak tightly around her face before disembarking. She and Malfoy stood outside on the platform to await their luggage for a moment before setting off into the village. She looked around while they waited, all spent on making conversation for the time being.

In her mind's eye, she flashed back to that night twenty-five years ago when Harry, Ron, and herself had apparated right into Hogsmeade, still high on the adrenaline from successfully breaking in and out of Gringotts Wizarding Bank and escaping on a dragon. She could still hear the caterwauling charms that broke the night's deathly quiet the instant their feet touched the ground. She shivered.

"Cold?" Draco asked, all politeness. "I apologize for not having an extra cloak."

"Not really, just memories resurfacing. I haven't visited Hogsmeade in quite some time." Hermione reached out to take her bag from the porter, waving off Draco's offer to carry it for her.

"So where are you staying?" Malfoy inquired.

"The Founders' Retreat," she responded.

"Ah, that's where I'm staying as well," he answered with a small smile. "I reserved myself the top suite of the Slytherin side."

Hermione laughed. "Of course you did. I'm not sure which side I'm on yet."

In the years following the war, the village of Hogsmeade and the grounds of Hogwarts had turned into a Mecca of sorts for the wizarding world. Wizards and witches from all over had begun making journeys to see where the battle had been fought, where Voldemort had finally fallen for good. During Hermione's time at Hogwarts, there had been two pubs in Hogsmeade, but they were unable to keep up with the influx of visitors, especially during the peak summer months when school was out and Hogwarts opened it's gates for the crowds. Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff boy from Hermione's year, had seen an opportunity and jumped on it. He had opened a luxury hotel on what had been the outskirts of Hogsmeade and named it The Founders' Retreat in homage to the four founders of Hogwarts. The hotel consisted of four wings, one for each founder and house at Hogwarts,as well as a small main wing connecting them where the lobby was located. Hermione had never really bothered with house loyalty once she left school, but many witches and wizards still requested a room in their house's wing whenever they stayed at the Retreat.

This would be Hermione's first visit to the Retreat. When she decided to attend the ball, she had owled Justin personally to request a room at his discretion. She knew that rooms would go fast as the crowds poured in for the celebration, and she was also worried about privacy. The press had had a field day with the "where are they now" stories leading up to the anniversary of the battle and so far she had managed to stay out of it. She had never been particularly close with Justin, but she had been willing to take the gamble that he would help. Thankfully, he'd owled her back two days later saying that everything had been arranged and he'd even gone a step above and secured her reservation under an alias. She had had a good laugh when she'd seen the name.

Hermione kept her head down and her hood up when the entered the hotel's lobby. It was definitely crowded with all of the new arrivals from the train. Though the other pubs were still in business, most visitors to Hogsmeade preferred the sleeping accommodations of the Retreat. Malfoy started to put a hand on her back then thought better of it, yet stayed next to her as they navigated their way to the reservation desk.

"You know, you can probably put the hood down," Malfoy whispered. "Everyone will know you're here pretty soon anyways."

Hermione grimaced. "Trust me, I know, but I'd like to keep my privacy while I can."

"Alright, then, I guess this is where we part for now," he said. " I'm going to see if I can arrange a carriage to take us up to the school tomorrow night. Let's say we'll meet here at seven in case we don't see each other before then."

Hermione nodded and shook his outstretched hand, already second-guessing her decision to go with him. She watched as he strode up to one of the concierges at the desk, and then she made her way over to a smiling girl at the other end.

"Hello, and welcome to The Founders' Retreat" the girl greeted her warmly. "Checking in?"

"Yes, the reservation is under Betty Rubble," Hermione answered in a low voice.

"Ah, yes, Ms…. Rubble," the girl winked. "We've been expecting you. Your room is all ready. You'll be staying in the Hufflepuff wing if that's alright. Payment has already been taken care of. I'll just need you to sign here while I grab your keys."

Hermione stopped herself from signing her real name and scribbled "Betty Rubble" quickly as the concierge returned with her card keys.

"Each door is enchanted to only open with the card key for that room. Additional locking charms are in place as well as silencing charms to ensure you have a most peaceful stay. There's a fully functional spa on the top floor of this main wing, and our restaurant is open for three meals a day. You'll find the times for the spa and our restaurant on a placard in your suite. If you choose to dine in your room, there is a menu in your suite that you can order from. Just touch your wand to the menu, state your room number, and your order, then the elves will send it right up. Any questions?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "I'm expecting my children to join me here in about an hour for dinner. Would you just direct them to my room?" She pulled out a recent picture of Rose and Hugo to show the girl.

"Oh, yes ma'am, I'll take care of that for you," she answered.

"Thank you." Hermione handed over the slip of parchment with her fake signature and collected her card keys.

"Enjoy your stay!" the girl called as Hermione walked away to the lifts.

She was pleasantly surprised to find that Justin had put her up in the Badger's Den, the penthouse suite for the Hufflepuff wing. She entered into a foyer where she finally was able to remove her cloak, and hung it up in a small closet by the door. As she shook her chestnut curls out from the bun, she walked into the expansive living area of the suite. There were three soft leather couches in a charcoal grey adorned with muted yellow throw pillows, and a glass-topped coffee table sat in the space between the couches. Off to the left there was an impressive kitchen with stainless steel appliances and dark grey granite countertops. A dining area to seat ten stretched out to the back wall that was covered in floor to ceiling windows which looked out on the Scottish mountains surrounding Hogsmeade.

Hermione made her way to the right where three sets of double doors opened to bedrooms, each containing a king size bed adorned in the same muted charcoal and yellow tones as the living room in various patterns. Each bedroom had it's own en suite bathroom also done up in the softer versions of Hufflepuff's house colors.

She couldn't see any of the candles that the wizarding world preferred. Instead, electric lights turned on and off whenever she entered or left a room. She walked over to the dining table where she saw a large fruit basket. She plucked out the card and sat down on the couch to read it before unpacking.

 _"Hermione,_

 _Sorry I couldn't be there to greet you myself. I figured with all of the visitors coming up this weekend, it'd be better if I just stayed at my manor and apparate up tomorrow. I hope you don't mind being in the Hufflepuff suite. I would have put you in Godric's Pride, but Harry Potter's wife had called and requested it prior to my receiving your owl. I'll let you in on a secret though. You're in my own personal suite, and house pride forced me to add extra amenities to the Hufflepuff rooms, mine especially. So essentially, you're getting the better end of the deal. I'm looking forward to seeing you at the ball after all of these years. It's been far too long, and we need to catch up. Let me know how you enjoy my hotel!_

 _-JFF_

 _P.S. The tvs are charmed to work with magic."_

Well, his own personal suite! Hermione was doubly glad that she'd taken the gamble of owling him now. She stood up and stretched, then picked up her bag to decide which room to take. She needed to get ready quickly before her kids arrived. Suddenly, she caught sight of yet another pair of double doors behind the dining room table. Curious, she made her way over and opened them.

It was obviously the master suite. The bed here seemed even larger than the other three, though it was also done in the same color scheme. The master bedroom took up the entire length of the suite, including the en suite bathroom and massive closet. Hermione couldn't fathom why anyone would need such a large closet in a hotel. She ran back out to the living area and snatched up her bag. She knew which room she'd be staying in now!

She quickly changed out of her muggle jeans and button down shirt and put on a soft, stretchy black sleeveless dress that hit just below her knees. She left her hair down, and decided that she'd stay barefoot for now. Hermione was nervous to see her children, and hoped she'd be able to talk them into dining in her room. She'd have to find that room service menu to make sure it included things her surly teenagers would enjoy. Should she go ahead and order for them? It seemed like it had been so long since they'd willingly spent time with her. She couldn't remember what their favorite foods were anymore. She began pacing in the living room stopping only when she heard the knock at the door. She froze. They were here.


	6. Chapter 6

A second knock on the door shook Hermione out of her frozen state. She rushed over to the door of her suite, throwing it open to reveal her two children.

"Hugo! Rose!" she cried. Rose stalked past her, but Hermione was able to wrap Hugo up in a tight hug.

"Don't mind Rose," he whispered. "She's a bit miffed right now."

Hermione just grinned, and led Hugo into the living area to join Rose on the couches.

"Oh, I'm just so glad you're here," she exclaimed. "I thought maybe we could order food up here to the room. It'll give us lots of time to chat!"

"Are you really going to the Memorial Ball with Scorpius' father?" Rose burst out.

Hermione was stunned. "Pardon? Who told you that?"

"Dad told her," Hugo answered. "In front of Scorpius."

"I see," Hermione replied. "When did you see your father?"

Rose huffed. "Just answer the question, Mother."

Hugo smirked. "We saw Dad as we were walking down here. Ran into him over by The Three Broomsticks where he's staying. He tried talking us into having dinner with him, but I told him we already had plans to eat with you. Rose wanted to stay with Dad. That's why she's mad."

"Mum, you can't go with Mr. Malfoy! You just can't!" Rose fumed.

"We did agree to go together," Hermione stated. "Just as friends though, so don't get any other ideas. I know you and Scorpius are friendly-"

"Oh, they're friendly, all right," Hugo snorted.

"Shut up!" Rose hissed at her brother.

Hermione sat back and studied her children. They seemed to have grown up without her even realizing it. Rose looked very much like a Weasley with her freckled skin and bright red hair. If she hadn't inherited Hermione's curls, Rose would have passed for a young Ginny. Hugo, now fifteen, had gotten his father's height, but his hair was a more subtle auburn and his skin tanned easily like Hermione's. Her children were beautiful, and Hermione's eyes welled with tears briefly.

"Right," she said, standing and wiping at her eyes before her kids saw her crying. "Let me grab the room service menu. We have all night for you two to catch me up on everything. I want to know it all! Oh, and there are three extra bedrooms here if you want to stay the night."

"We have to be back before curfew," Rose stated coldly.

Hugo nodded. "And I have prefect duties tonight."

Hermione started to ask Rose why on earth she scheduled her brother for rounds, knowing that would mean they'd have to cut their dinner short, then stopped. She wouldn't fight with her children tonight. She wanted a fresh start. She needed to show them how much she truly cared for them. She had to make them see that she wasn't the bad guy that Ron always made her out to be. Deep breaths.

They ordered their dinner, a family-sized meal of roast beef and root vegetables, which they ended up eating off the room's provided chinaware while they lounged on the couches. The kids told her all about their classes and marks on homework assignments. Rose finally calmed down a little, and told a thrilling play by play of her last Quidditch match, Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff. Rose was a brilliant chaser, another thing in common with her Aunt Ginny.

"And then I could see that MacDougal was feinting left, but I went for it anyway. He missed my quaffle by a half inch at most! It was amazing, Mum! I wish you'd been there!"

Hermione beamed. "Oh, darling Rose. I would love to attend your games. When's the next one?"

"The last match is in three weeks," Hugo answered. "Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw."

"And why didn't you go out for the Gryffindor team this year?" Hermione asked him. "You played a great keeper last year from what I heard."

"Honestly? It would've been too hard to keep up with my studies and prefect duties." he said. Hermione was impressed with her son's sense of responsibility. Maybe she and Ron had done something right after all.

"Mum, can I ask you something?" Hugo asked.

"Anything," she said, gushing a little. This night couldn't be going better.

"This place is super swanky," he said, waving his hand to indicate her suite. "How'd you afford this? Dad says you're broke and that's why you don't pay child support or anything."

Hermione was shocked. "Well, that's a bold question. Um, first of all, I'm not broke by any means, but we can discuss that later. Second, I went to school with the gentleman who owns this place, and I owled him to inquire about staying here at the hotel. He set me up with this room." She shrugged as if to say it was no big deal.

"So why don't you pay Dad child support?" Rose asked softly.

"Darlings, I would give you every Knut in my vault if you needed it," Hermione answered. She couldn't believe Ronald's cheek, telling their children such lies. She decided that at fifteen and eighteen, her children were old enough to hear the truth from her. Well, at least some of it.

"When your father and I separated," she began. "We never felt that it was necessary to set a formal agreement on custody and financial support. Instead, we agreed that the two of you were old enough to decide who you wanted to see and when. As for finances, we also decided that we're both well off enough to pay for whatever whenever things were needed, and whoever you were staying with at that time would cover your expenses. Since you two always choose to stay with your father leaving most of your expenditures to him, I've tried to make up for that by offering to take you shopping in Diagon Alley for your school things, but you always turned me down. Remember? You always said that you'd already gone, or you'd already made plans to go with your cousins."

"So you're saying that Dad's been lying to us?" Hugo asked.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I will never speak ill of your father to you. I will say, however, that your father has never asked me for money to help with your expenses, nor has he accepted any when I've offered it. And believe me, I've tried."

 _Just_ _like I've tried to have you over to my home, yet you've never come_ , she thought. Every year during holidays, she'd send her children an owl, asking them to come and stay. And every time, without fail, they had new excuses for why they couldn't. Maybe after tonight they would reconsider, she told herself. She had to hope. Rose looked at her mother. There were tears streaming prettily down her cheeks.

"We've missed you, Mum," she croaked.

"Yeah," Hugo whispered. "Sorry we haven't at least owled more."

Hermione smiled sweetly, and raised her tea cup. "Well, then. Here's to a brand new start for the three of us. How does that sound?"

Her kids both nodded eagerly, and jumped up to hug their mother.


	7. Chapter 7

With just thirty minutes left before curfew, Hermione slipped her feet into a pair of leopard print ballet flats and walked her children down to the hotel's front doors. Brushing away tears, she hugged and kissed Rose and Hugo, then waved as they strode out into the night. Crossing her arms tightly over her chest, Hermione turned and walked back into the hotel's main lobby. It was blissfully quiet now that most of the ball's attendees had arrived and checked in.

Her dinner with Rose and Hugo had been rough yet wonderful. There had been laughter and tears, and Hermione was feeling more optimistic about her overall relationship with her kids for the first time in a very long while. She began walking back to the bank of lifts when a flash caught her eye. Her first thought was that a photographer found her, and she ducked into an open doorway on her right, bemoaning that she hadn't thought to wear a scarf or cloak. She quickly looked around, and found herself in the hotel bar. _What the heck_ , she thought, and sidled up to the bar to order a drink.

She found herself a light white wine with a hint of pears and apples on the menu. When the bartender asked which room to charge, Hermione handed over her room card and was just about to give the man her alias, when a voice piped up behind her.

"Charge it to mine, and I'll have one as well."

Hermione glanced over to see Malfoy claiming a seat at the bar next to her.

"If you're looking for privacy, it won't do to give out your alias so freely," he admonished her quietly.

"And just how do you know I'm using an alias?" she asked.

"Because I've been asking about you at the front desk for the last hour." He took their drinks from the bartender and motioned to a more private table in the back. "Come on. There're reporters in the lobby. Maybe we can wait them out."

Hermione groaned. "I knew I should have worn my cloak! I think one of the photographers got a shot of me."

Malfoy nodded. "That's how I saw you. There was a flash and someone said your name, and I saw you ducking in here. Not sure if they caught it though. A big crowd came in the front doors right after, and I managed to sneak through."

"Oh hell," she muttered. "That's all I need right now. You and I on the front page of the Prophet tomorrow morning."

"Why not?" Malfoy asked. "After tomorrow night, we'll definitely be splashed across all of the wizarding rags."

Hermione grimaced. "Don't remind me. Is this a mistake?"

"What? Going to the ball?"

She nodded. "I had dinner with my kids tonight, and I received an earful from my daughter about why I can't go with you."

"And what did you tell her?" Malfoy asked, taking a small sip of his wine.

"I just told her that we're going as friends," Hermione explained. "Besides, I think she's only worried because of her friendship with your son."

"I'm surprised that you even told her about us going together," he replied.

"I didn't," Hermione said. "My loving ex-husband took it upon himself to tell both of my children and your son as well."

Malfoy looked taken aback. "Really? Scorpius didn't mention anything about it."

"Oh, did you see him this evening?" she asked.

"Yes, we met up for tea over at Madame Puddifoot's."

Hermione burst into laughter. "The pink doily place?"

Malfoy scowled. "You know, it's not such a bad establishment when it's not filled to the brim with snogging teenagers. Plus, she puts on a very good spread."

"I'll have to take your word for it," she giggled. "I'm not sure if I could ever step foot in there myself."

"Do you mean to tell me that not one hormonal boy took you to Madame Puddifoot's on a Hogsmeade weekend?" Malfoy chuckled. "Not even Krum when he wanted in your knickers?"

She rolled her eyes. "Krum never went anywhere near my knickers, I assure you. And, no, no other boys fancied me while we were at school."

"Or maybe no boys had the nerve to approach the famous Hermione Granger," he said conspiratorially. "I found you pretty enough."

"When you weren't wishing me dead, you mean?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Must you keep bringing that up?" Malfoy sighed dramatically. "I've apologized, haven't I?"

Hermione shook her head. "Actually, no. You haven't apologized."

"Oh. Well, I am. Sorry, I mean."

Hermione waited for him to continue. It took a good moment for her to realize he didn't plan to. She stood up.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I won't sit here any longer and pretend that I'm friendly with a man who bullied me for years, then offers up that piss poor apology. If you can offer up something better, come find me."

And just like that, she stormed off.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione managed to dodge the handful of reporters still lurking about by hiding behind a group of burly wizards as they made their way to the lifts. She snagged an elevator to herself, punching the buttons to take her back up to her room.

"How dare he?" she fumed to herself. Did he really think that a sloppy "I'm sorry" could make up for the multitude of things he had done to her over the years? All the "mudbloods" that he had hurled her way, the sneers in the hallways, making fun of her appearance… And now he also had the nerve to say that he'd thought her pretty? Ugh!

She stomped to the doorway of her suite, patting herself down as she searched for her card key. Truly, she was the fool here. How could she believe for even five seconds that Malfoy could have possibly grown up enough? That they could possibly be friends?

"Where is that damned key?" she yelled to no one.

"Looking for this?"

She turned, instinct causing her to reach for her wand as Malfoy stepped from the elevator, brandishing her card key.

"You left it with the bartender," he said at her shocked expression.

Hermione snatched her key out of Malfoy's hand. As she let herself in to the suite, Malfoy put out an arm to prevent her from shutting the door in his face.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked.

"No, it's late," she said, struggling to close the door. "Goodnight Malfoy."

"But I need to apologize," he demanded.

"You came up with one that quickly, did you?" she asked skeptically.

He nodded. "I've had it ready for years."

Hermione debated briefly before she opened the door with a huff. "Oh, go on then."

She led him into her living area, and took her seat on a sofa, ushering him to take a seat on one of the opposite couches. Malfoy, however, began pacing around the room, his hands thrust deep in his pockets.

"Well?" Hermione prodded.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "I admit, now that I'm here, I find myself at a loss for words. Honestly, I've played this out in my head countless times over the years, just how I would apologize for my cruelty…. But I'm not sure where to start."

"Okay," she said. "How did you usually start in your head, I guess?"

"That's the thing," he chuckled. "I can't recall. Okay, how about this? I'm a prat. I've always been a prat, and I'll probably always be a prat."

Hermione glared at him. "This isn't an apology. You're just telling me something that I already know!"

"Wait, just listen," he insisted. "Second year. I called you 'mudblood'. I said I hoped the monster killed you. I was twelve. Who says those things when they're _twelve_? Then, summer before fourth year, in the woods after the World Cup. I told you to hide when the Death Eaters were out. Do you remember?"

She nodded. The Death Eaters, Voldemort's followers, had captured a muggle family, and were marching through the camps with the muggles suspended in the air upside down. Malfoy had told her, Harry, and Ron that she should hide unless she wanted to be suspended in the air with her knickers on display as well. It had seemed so unlike Malfoy to warn her. She had wondered about that for years afterwards.

"I'd like to say that I did that in a rare show of compassion or bravery," he continued. "That the thought of someone I actually knew, not just another faceless muggle being tortured was something I couldn't tolerate, and had to speak up. Truth is, though, that none of that crossed my mind. I honestly did not care because I was a prat. I was raised in a home that believed muggleborns were beneath me, no better than thieves. Even though you bested me at everything in school, I never saw you as a person.

"Then something happened in fourth year. Victor Krum, international Quidditch star and student of the Dark Arts, came to Hogwarts. I looked up to him in so many ways, and he did something that I never expected."

"What?" Hermione asked, though she was sure she already knew what he would say.

"He noticed you. He saw you as a person. He escorted you to the Yule Ball, and for the first time since I'd met you, I saw you."

"Oh," she breathed.

Malfoy nodded. "But after fourth year, everything changed even more. The Dark Lord had risen again. The Death Eaters reformed. I was caught up in everything my family had been waiting for my whole life. I knew where I was heading. I knew I'd be joining the Death Eaters as soon as the Dark Lord willed it. I didn't _want_ to see you as a person. I didn't _want_ to notice how pretty you were.

"I devoted myself to my training," he went on, pacing the floor between the couches and running one hand through his hair. "I learned Occlumency. I practiced the Unforgivables. And then, the summer before sixth year, my time came. I was given a mission from the Dark Lord himself, and with it, the chance to redeem my family after the mess at the Ministry. And I found out that being a Death Eater wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

"Oh, at first, I was so proud. I was the youngest Death Eater ever. I flashed my Mark at anyone I thought it could make an impact on. I imagined myself as the Dark Lord's right hand man once I killed Dumbledore. But, well, you know what happened. I failed.

"I often wonder what would have happened if I had taken Dumbledore's offer; if I had spared his life. Instead, I failed to kill him, and went into hiding briefly. But Dumbledore was still dead, and we all thought that we would finally get the new world we had been promised. Instead, we were torturing first years, and I didn't want to be a Death Eater anymore. There was no way out though.

"Then, Snatchers brought you and your friends to my house and my aunt tortured you on my drawing room floor while I stood by helplessly and watched. Suddenly, all of those reasons I wish I'd had when I warned you in the woods were really there in my heart and in my head. You weren't another faceless muggle. You were _Hermione_ _Granger_. You were the girl who had bested me in school for years. The girl I had mocked since the day I met you. You were tortured mercilessly, and I couldn't do anything to stop it. That day has haunted me ever since, and I am so, _so_ sorry."

Hermione gazed up at him through her tears. Slowly, she stood from her place on the couch and crossed over to him. She carefully put her arms around him. He was tense at first, then slowly loosened up and returned the hug.

Pulling back slightly, she said, "Now _that_ is an apology." And she pressed her lips to his.


	9. Chapter 9

**Just a quick author's note: Y'all are amazing! I totally freaked out this morning when I saw all of the messages about follow/favorite alerts. Oh, and don't let me forget the reviews! I try to answer every single one, but just remember that if you are a guest on the site, I am not able to reply to your kind words. This is the first fanfiction that I've ever written, so please excuse me if I geek out a little from all of the love. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Please keep reviewing, tell me what you love, and feedback helps me be a better writer for you. Now, I'll shut up and let you get back to the story. Where were we? Oh yes, the kiss!**

 _Oh sweet Circe, this is awkward. What am I doing? Is he even kissing me back? Oh, no. He's frozen!_ Hermione pulled away swiftly. She and Malfoy just stared at each other with eyes as wide as saucers. Why had she kissed him? Granted, it was just a small peck, but why? She couldn't figure it out. And now she had no idea what to do next, so she did what she did best in incredibly awkward situations: she began to babble.

"Oh my, I think that's enough chatting for tonight-"

"Granger."

"Plus, that wine really went to my head-"

" _Granger_."

"I'm super tired." Fake yawn.

" _ **Granger**_!"

"Here, let me see you out."

"Shouldn't we talk about this?" Malfoy asked warily.

"No," she answered firmly. "I have a very busy day tomorrow. We can talk about it another time."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "If you insist."

As she practically shoved him out of her door, he grabbed her and brought her lips to his one more time. This was no simple peck either. It was insistent, almost forceful, and Hermione jerked away quickly.

"I can't do this right now," she whimpered and shut the door.

Hermione was mortified. She had just broken ground rule number one, no forced sexual contact. It had been Hermione's rule to begin with. She knew that when people saw her attending the ball with Malfoy, that some may get the wrong idea and think they were more than friends. She hadn't wanted to give Malfoy an opening to grab her and kiss her just to try and get a rise out of people, namely Ron or Harry. In fact, the original version had stated "no sexual contact of any kind". Malfoy had been the one to amend it to "no forced sexual contact", with the argument that if they mutually agreed to hold hands or something, they should be allowed to. That now made Hermione wonder if he had wanted to kiss her on the train. Is that why he wanted to go with her in the first place?

Yet, she had been the one to kiss him. She hadn't kissed anyone since Ron. Due to her self-imposed life as a hermit of sorts, Hermione hadn't dated since her marriage broke up. When they had first separated, there had been a tiny bit of hope in Hermione that they might still work things out. Then, he had started dating Gabrielle, and Hermione avoided dating anyone herself to show that she wasn't moving on as fast as Ronald had. So why, after all this time, had she decided to kiss Malfoy? Was she truly so lonely that she threw herself at the first man to pay her attention?

Though he had kissed her at the door. Surely, that indicated that this wasn't all on her. Now faced with the possibility that this… whatever it was, could be mutual, Hermione needed to analyze what this was. Did she have actual feelings for Malfoy? No, that was impossible, it was vile. He was her childhood bully! What kind of woman developed feelings for their childhood bully?

But, he had apologized. While that didn't exactly cancel out everything he had ever done, Hermione had been raised to recognize a sincere apology, and to forgive and move on. If she took the past out of consideration, where did that leave her?

As she scrubbed the makeup off of her face in preparation for bed, she focused her thoughts solely on Malfoy- Draco? No, that was too weird still. She'd stick to Malfoy. That should be telling enough in itself. She had kissed a man, yet she couldn't even think of him by his first name. Maybe she could practice it tomorrow.

The years had been good to Malfoy. His face was still a little pointy, but he had grown into a handsome, well-built man. He was at least six feet tall, and his body was still slim, yet toned. She imagined that one of the hobbies he'd referred to involved a gym membership, though Malfoy seemed more of the home gym type. Either way, he'd not developed a gut or let himself go soft like so many of the men their age. He also seemed to keep up with fashion. His hair was stylish and short, artfully messy instead of his old slicked back style. His robes were tailored to accentuate his slim build. And his eyes… Those silvery grey eyes. Yes, Hermione decided that she definitely found Malfoy very attractive.

Then what of his personality? Their time on the train had proven they could get along, and fairly well at that. She had found him funny and engaging, and easy to talk to. She never would have spoken so freely with him otherwise. But did she trust him? Could she trust him? He had readily admitted to still being a prat, though Hermione could concede that his prattishness was far less than it had been in school. She had laid bare a lot of her secrets to him. Would he keep them? Well, he had given her a secret in return by telling her about Astoria, though that was really Astoria's secret, not his. She'd have to find out more.

Hermione pulled her nightdress over her head, then decided that what she really wanted right now was a cool glass of wine to help settle her mind before bed. She picked up her wand and made her way out to the kitchen to see if the room had any of the elf-made wine she'd sampled earlier in the bar. As she poked her head in the refrigerator, she was startled by a crack of apparition coming from the living area, and nearly knocked herself senseless on the fridge door. Thankfully, her wand was still in her hand and she raised it, creeping her way along the wall to find the intruder.

"Begging your pardons, Missus. I brings a message from Master Malfoy."

There was a house elf in her hotel room. Not just a house elf, but _Malfoy's_ house elf. He must have summoned the elf from his home once he'd arrived at the hotel. Surely he could go a couple of days without his elf? The creature in her living room begged to differ that point however, as it watched her warily with it's protuberant blue eyes. She could see the poor elf was shaking in it's tunic that bore the Malfoy crest, and it's pointy bat-like ears were quivering. Hermione quickly lowered her wand.

"I am so sorry," Hermione stated carefully. "You startled me."

The elf straightened up to it's full diminutive height, all nervousness gone. "I is apologizing for that, Missus, you being a greats hero. I knews you must be careful."

Hermione was startled. Ever since her days in fourth year of trying to free all of the Hogwarts house elves, most elves she came in contact with avoided her like the plague. This one called her a great hero.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"I is Tinkle," the elf answered. "And I is the daughter of Dobby, free elf and hero."

Hermione smiled softly. "I knew your father. He saved my life."

Tinkle nodded enthusiastically. "Yes Missus, I knows. Master has told Tinkle all about the Hero Granger."

Tinkle's eyes widened, then she giggled at her slip.

"Are you going to get in trouble for telling me that?" Hermione asked. She knew how the Malfoy family had treated their elves in the past. It had been one of her biggest motivators in passing legislation for the treatment of house elves. She could not bear the thought of an elf being punished for something it had told her. Thankfully, Tinkle shook her head earnestly.

"No, Missus. Missus made things good for elves again. No punishments for Malfoy elves. Master is a fair master."

"Oh good," Hermione sighed. This conversation had gotten off track. She tried to remember why the elf had appeared in the first place. "You had a message for me?"

Tinkle nodded. "Yes, Missus Hero Granger. Master Malfoy would like to knows what Missus Hero Granger will wear to the ball so he cans dress to match."

"Well, that's thoughtful of him," Hermione mused. "Tell Mister Malfoy that I shall be in red and gold."

Tinkle gave a low bow. "Of course, Missus." And with a loud crack and a wide grin, Tinkle disappeared.

All thoughts of wine now gone from her head, Hermione walked back to her bedroom, collapsing into the heavenly mattress. Her last thoughts before drifting off to sleep were of trying to imagine Malfoy's face as he realized he now had to wear Gryffindor colors to the ball if he truly wanted to dress to match.


	10. Chapter 10

Hermione found herself thankful for the silencing charms on her room the next morning as she belted out an old David Bowie song while she rinsed out her tresses in the shower. All of Tinkle's hero talk the previous night must have stuck with her, and she screeched out the line about being heroes just for one day. She continued humming as she turned off the shower, patted herself dry with a large fluffy yellow towel, wrapped the towel around her body, and padded barefoot out to the kitchen. On her way, she picked up her wand from the nightstand and began drying her hair.

As she walked into the outer rooms of her suite, her ears picked up on a strange, high-pitched humming. She turned to the source of the noise, and Hermione's wand dropped from her hand, gold sparks leaving scorch marks in the cream carpet.

"Oh shoot," she muttered, bending over to pick up her wand, while grasping her towel even tighter around her. " _Reparo_. Tinkle, what are you doing here so early?"

Tinkle stood at the kitchen counter, humming what sounded strangely like the same David Bowie tune that Hermione had been singing in the shower moments before, and arranging fruit and croissants on a plate.

"Master says Missus Hero Granger has to eats a good breakfast," Tinkle answered with a big toothy grin. "Master says Missus Hero Granger has long day aheads of her, and Tinkle's to takes care of Missus Hero Granger till Master calls her backs."

"Well, again, that's surprisingly thoughtful of him," Hermione said. "Though I really don't need any help today. Surely, you can just pop right-"

"Oh, no, Missus Hero Granger!" Tinkle rushed over and dragged Hermione to a chair at the dining table. "You's nots getting rid of Tinkle so easilys, no you's not. Now sits, and haves your breakfasts."

With a snap of her little pointy fingers, Tinkle levitated the plate of food to sit on the table in front of Hermione.

"Well, it does all look rather good," she told Tinkle, tentatively picking up one of the warm croissants. Tinkle rolled her bulbous eyes in such a way that Hermione wondered if the word "duh" was in the house elf's vocabulary.

"Master knews what he was doing when he assigns Tinkle to Missus Hero Granger, yes he dids," Tinkle nodded. "Missus Hero Granger's needs Tinkle. I is the best elf for the jobs. No elf takes care of Missus Hero Granger likes Tinkle."

"He assigned you to me?" Hermione asked aghast at the the nerve of Malfoy. "Wait, did he bring other elves to take care of him?"

Another eye roll. "No, only Tinkle is to be caring for Missus Hero Granger. Now, tell Tinkle your schedules while I finishes drying your hairs."

So, he _could_ take care of himself for a couple of days. He just didn't think _she_ could. _Or maybe he's just trying to be nice_ , she scolded herself. Hmm, maybe. It felt pretty nice having someone else take rare of her unruly mane of hair. Tinkle seemed quite skilled at it as well. _Maybe she was Astoria's house elf_ , Hermione wondered.

"So who are you assigned to normally?" Hermione asked. She didn't relish the thought of having Draco's ex-wife's house elf running her fingers through her hair.

"I is a laundry elf at Malfoy Manor, Missus Hero Granger," she answered. "Tinkle is assigned no one till you."

"So why did Malfoy choose you to help me?" Hermione asked.

"Master says only a hero's daughter could serves a hero," Tinkle answered proudly. "There. Hairs dried. What is next?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "I didn't have anything planned actually till this evening. My makeup and hair spells don't take very long, so I should only need an hour or so to get dressed."

Tinkle began urgently wringing her hands. "This will nots do, no, this will nots! Missus Hero Granger is to be pampereds on Master's orders! What will Master say? Tinkle must think. I knows!"

With a snap of her fingers, a long cushioned table appeared in the living area near the windowed wall and soft music began playing out of nowhere.

"Go lie downs, Missus Hero Granger," Tinkle ordered. "Tinkle will gives you massages."

Massages, indeed. Hermione had never felt so relaxed. Tinkle spent the next several hours, minus a break for lunch, rubbing various lotions and potions into Hermione's skin until she appeared to be glowing. Her tanned skin gave off a light golden shimmer that had Hermione in awe. One Tinkle was better than any day spa packed with employees.

"Tinkle, you are phenomenal!" Hermione gushed.

"Yes," Tinkle answered with a curt nod. Hermione giggled. So much for a humble servant. "Now, Tinkle needs to sees the dress."

Hermione gently pulled the garment bag out of the closet and hung it off the door. She carefully lowered the zipper on the bag to reveal the glorious red fabric underneath. Tinkle looked the dress over for a brief moment, then with another short nod, she led Hermione to the en suite bathroom.

"You is backless," Tinkle stated. "Hair up."

"Oh, I was going to wear it-"

"Hair. Up." Tinkle was all business. She waved her hands over Hermione's head, and tendrils of hair began weaving themselves into an intricate updo, complete with golden tinsel the same width as her strands of hair scattered throughout. Within mere seconds, her hair was artfully arranged in an elegant Regency-style updo. A few short, soft curls fell around her face, and a thin gold headband held back any flyaways. When she turned her head, the ribbons caught the light with a pretty little wink of gold. She felt regal.

"Oh, Tinkle," Hermione breathed. "It's beautiful! And to think, I was just going to wear it in curls down my back."

"See? Missus Hero Granger needs Tinkle!" she squeaked.

They took another brief break for a light tea before tackling Hermione's makeup. Hermione insisted that she could do her own charms, but Tinkle argued that she could do it better. She finally agreed to let Hermione do her own makeup, but if it didn't fit Tinkle's vision, she would remove it and do it for her. In the end, Tinkle only added a faint dusting of gold around Hermione's eyes to add to the shimmering smokey eye makeup that Hermione had put in place.

Finally, it was time for the dress. Tinkle helped Hermione step carefully into the gown, securing the shoulder straps, and zipping up the side. She placed sticking charms to make sure the dress didn't have any wardrobe malfunctions. Tinkle surveyed Hermione, then with another wave of her hand, a thin long gold chain necklace draped down the front of Hermione's dress, and a golden snake wove itself three times around Hermione's left bicep.

"There," Tinkle said with a bow. "You is ready for the ball."


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: Again, thank you for all of the lovely reviews and comments. Now, I did receive a question about my update schedule. Very simply, I don't have one. Hopefully that's not against the rules. :) I'm a stay at home mom which should allow for fairly regular updates, especially since right now I'm a few chapters ahead and I typically post as soon as I deem them worthy.**

 **Now, how are y'all liking things so far? What do you think of Hermione's look for the ball? And do y'all love Tinkle as much as I do? Let me know!**

 **P.S. The end of this chapter is probably my favorite Draco moment yet. -L**

Tinkle helped buckle Hermione's feet into the strappy gold heels after she charmed them with cushioning charms. Then Hermione slipped on her cloak, carefully raising the hood so as not to damage her hair. She double-checked her clutch to make sure she had all of her essentials for the night, and turned to face Tinkle.

"You have been amazing," Hermione told the little elf. "I am so thankful that Malfoy sent you to me."

"You is most welcomes, Missus Hero Granger." Tinkle escorted Hermione to the lift, then disappeared with a wave and a pop.

She reached the main hotel lobby, and began pacing as she waited for Malfoy. It was difficult to look around for him while also trying to keep her head down. Once again, a handful of reporters and photographers were already camped out and she didn't want to give them any kind of shot of her face until she made her entrance at the ball. The Memorial Ball. Hermione closed her eyes.

Twenty-five years ago today, her best friend Harry Potter felled Lord Voldemort at dawn. While she understood celebrating the fall of the so-called Dark Lord, nothing else about those hours at Hogwarts inspired celebration to her. So many friends laid out dead in the Great Hall where they would dine and dance tonight. So many body parts strewn across the grounds that carriages would be crossing even now. No, tonight was not for celebration. Not for Hermione. Tonight would be about remembrance.

"I was all prepared to make a speech about having the most beautiful date tonight, but I can hardly see you under that cloak."

Hermione's eyes shot open in surprise to find Malfoy peering under her hood, trying to get a glimpse of her.

"What were you thinking about in there?" he asked. "You look so sad."

She sighed. "I was telling myself that tonight is about remembering those we lost, not celebrating."

He gave her a grim nod. "That's a very good thing to think about. Are you ready to go? Our carriage should be outside."

Hermione gave him a small smile from the shadows of her hood, and hooked her arm through his as he led her to the doors.

"Did you have any trouble finding colors to match?" she asked teasingly. "I can't really see your outfit either underneath your cloak."

"Oh, you'll see," he grumbled. "Shall we both go hoods up till we arrive?"

"Yes," she agreed. "I think we'll make a more powerful entrance if we wait for people to see us."

Draco complied, lifting his hood before they stepped out. He was just in time, as cameras began flashing while they made their way to the carriage he had hired. Hermione wondered why they kept taking pictures of two incognito people until she heard a reporter shout "Mr. Potter, this way!" Then another yelled "Mrs. Potter, who are you wearing?". Hermione paused outside of the carriage and tried to surreptitiously sneak a peek at her best friend and his wife.

Could she even call him her best friend anymore? He'd barely even exchanged pleasantries with her since she'd split with Ron. Ginny never even sent more than a Christmas card every year with the usual generic form letter updating everyone on her list of their family's year. Hermione knew she should be offended that she now ranked so low on the The Potter's minds. She hadn't realized that by divorcing Ron she would lose her friends as well.

"Do you need a hand up?" Malfoy asked, shaking Hermione from her reverie.

"Yes, thank you," she answered out of instilled politeness.

They spent the majority of the ride up to Hogwarts going over their ground rules. Hermione was so glad that he hadn't brought up their kiss yet. She wondered if that made the sexual contact rule null and void since she'd forced herself on him. No, she didn't think Malfoy would hold that against her. Actually, that was _exactly_ the kind of thing the old Malfoy would do. She wrung her hands nervously. Should she be the one to broach the subject?

"I was thinking of something last night," he said. _Oh no_ , she thought. _He's going to do it_. "We should probably call each other by our first names. At least for tonight."

Hermione choked out a sigh of relief. "Yes, yes, I was actually thinking the same thing… Draco."

"It only makes sense… _Hermione_ ," Draco teased. "I mean, especially now that we've kissed." And there it was.

Hermione gulped. "I'm not sure if I'm really ready to discuss that yet."

"When then?" he prodded.

"Well, I don't rightly know when I'll be ready, now, do I?" she huffed. "I'm nervous enough about just getting through tonight as it is. I don't need to add on whether or not we have feelings for each just yet."

"So you admit you may have feelings for me?" he asked with a grin.

"Malfoy…" she warned.

"Ah, ah. _Draco_." he corrected her.

"Can we please not talk about this right now?" Hermione begged.

"Alright," he conceded. "But now I know that my odds of getting kissed again tonight are pretty high."

Her retort was cut off before it could even leave her lips as their carriage jerked to a stop. Hermione looked out the window to see the stone steps leading up to the front doors of Hogwarts.

"Hoods up, heads down," Draco reminded her as he stepped out of the carriage.

She took hold of his arm again as she followed him up the stone steps, accompanied by the angry yells from reporters trying to see just who was under the cloaks. Once inside, they made their way up the steps of the Grand Staircase as directed to an empty classroom that was serving as the cloak check room for the night. They were blissfully alone, minus the two witches checking the cloaks.

"This is it," Hermione said, more to herself than Draco. "No more hiding."

Draco took off his cloak first to reveal tailored black dress robes with thin gold trim. Underneath, Hermione could see black dress pants and a white dress shirt with a gold tie. There was no red anywhere, but Hermione knew it must pain him to be wearing the gold of Gryffindor as opposed to the silver of Slytherin.

"You look very handsome," she told him.

"Alright, enough about me," he answered. "Your turn. I need to make sure that Tinkle did a good job."

"Thank you again for sending her, by the way," Hermione said as she prepared to lower her hood. "She is truly an artist."

"It's not hard when the canvas is already stunning," he mumbled causing Hermione to blush a deep red.

"Well, now I match my outfit even more," she muttered.

Draco sighed in frustration. "Yes, yes, cloak off."

Hermione slowly pulled down her hood, careful not to ruin all of Tinkle's hard work on her hair. She turned her back to Malfoy as she lowered the cloak down her arms, revealing her bare back first. When the cloak was almost to her waist, she faced Malfoy again and removed it completely to hand to the witches. Malfoy stood there with his mouth agape and eyes wide.

"Will I do?" Hermione asked with far more confidence than she felt.

He gulped. "Remember how I said I had a whole speech prepared about having the most beautiful witch on my arm tonight?"

She nodded.

"Hermione, you have rendered me speechless." Draco extended his arm out to her. "Now let's go show the rest of the world."


	12. Chapter 12

**Y'all it is like two in the morning my time, but I just couldn't go to bed without giving y'all at least one chapter! I hate that I didn't get it out earlier, but I was rereading the whole story earlier to check on a question that one of the readers had, and I found so many stinking typos I just couldn't rest till I fixed each and every one, then triple-checked to make sure they were all fixed.**

 **Okay, first, there was a timeline issue that one of the reviewers asked me about, and upon rereading everything I realized exactly what she (it was she, right? So sorry if it's he.) was talking about. Indulge me while I explain the Hermione/Ron divorce timeline.**

 **Hermione and Ron separated (not divorced yet) in late October of Hugo's first year at Hogwarts. Ron lived with Harry and Ginny till around Christmas when he announced to the kids that he and Hermione were divorcing. That was when Hermione moved out. They took awhile to actually begin the divorce proceedings, even though Ron started dating Gabrielle almost immediately. (We'll have the full story on that mess in upcoming chapters.) Despite Hermione wanting the split originally, she still held on to some hope that they might work things out, and Ron did as well. They just didn't actually try to work anything out, and instead drug out the divorce. The divorce was finalized in the middle of Hugo's fourth year, so that when our story begins, Hermione and Ron have been apart for four and a half years, divorced for just over one. Let me know if y'all have any additional questions about the divorce.**

 **Lastly, again I have been overwhelmed with the loveliness y'all have showered upon me and my little story! Your reviews bring me life and inspire me to keep going with this little idea I had. I wanted to bring attention to one reviewer in particular, Jessikah259 who left me one of my most favorite comments yet but when I went to respond, she doesn't receive messages so I'm calling her out here. Thank you for blowing my head up today, and making me squeal and giggle, and shove my phone in my Dramione-hating husband's face so that he could see your amazingly kind words. Now I'll let you see Ron be a bit of a douche (I promise this won't be a Ron-bashing story... well, maybe not. We'll see.) and Draco get all up in your feels. -L**

The scene before Hermione reminded her eerily of the dream she'd had on the train yesterday. Once again, she stood at the top of the stairs, struggling to look demure and regal, while a sea of familiar faces waited at the bottom. Some of those faces had already taken notice of her, and whispers were already drifting her way.

Draco squeezed her hand that was resting on his forearm and began to lead the way right down the middle of the staircase, his nose in the air. Hermione too held her head high and focused on maintaining a small smile on her face. A smattering of people that had been heading up the stairs to the cloak check room stopped in their tracks, and pushed quickly to the sides of the staircase to watch as Draco and Hermione passed by.

 _"Is that Hermione... with_ _ **Malfoy**_ _?"_

 _"What is Draco doing with_ _ **Granger**_ _?"_

 _"Is she still Granger? I'd heard she got divorced."_

 _"She looks amazing though. Much better than that picture the Prophet's been running in their Golden Trio spread."_

 _"I'd shag her."_

 _"Looks like Malfoy already beat you to it."_

The last comments caused Hermione to stifle her giggles while Malfoy glowered. His eyes scoured the crowd, looking for the culprit. Hermione kept her gaze poised above the heads of the throng, but now as they reached the bottom steps, she found herself face to face with her ex-husband.

"So you really did it, huh?" Ronald growled. "You really came with the Death Eater to _our_ Memorial Ball?"

"Ronald, hush, you're making a scene," Hermione admonished.

"Like that matters now!" Ron bellowed. "Everybody's already seen you with him! Why are you even here, Malfoy? What? No Death Eater revels scheduled for tonight so you thought you'd crash our party instead?"

Draco took one step closer to Ron, a sneer curling his mouth. "For your information, I have never attended a revel in my life, though I _am_ curious what _you_ would know about them. Also, I, like so many others here tonight, purchased a ticket for this ball so that I could come and remember the lives lost while praying to never see such bloodshed again."

Ron sneered as well, but the effect was not nearly as menacing on his face. "Come to mourn _dear_ Auntie Bellatrix and your Dark Lord? Sorry, but we won't be doing any tributes to them tonight."

"Ronald, Draco, stop this now!" Hermione scolded them. "This is neither the time nor the place for such words."

"Blame yourself for showing up with _him_ ," Ron snarled. "You should have known better, Mione."

" _Don't_ call me ' _Mione_ '!" she snapped. "And don't _ever_ dare to tell me what I should or shouldn't know! You don't know me at all, nor have you bothered to try either! Now, we came here to enjoy our evening, and think about the friends we lost, and if you don't like it, leave because we won't be bothered by you or anyone else tonight! Come Draco."

Hermione took Draco by the hand and began shoving her way through the crowd towards the doors of the Great Hall, and trying to put as much distance between them and Ron as she could. She kept her eyes forward, avoiding the stares of the onlookers and eavesdroppers that had heard her tirade. When she made it to the doors, she found their way impeded. The doors were still closed to the ball attendees for another few moments. With a sigh, she leaned heavily against the nearest wall.

"Well," Draco said with a smile. "That was not how I envisioned our first date starting."

Hermione couldn't help it. All her ire melted away and she burst out laughing. Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy of all people would give her just what needed in that moment? He leaned in closer, his hand still in hers, and he placed the other hand on the wall next to her face.

"Is it wrong that I was a little turned on by you back there?" he grinned.

Hermione snorted. "You're joking!"

Draco shook his head ruefully. "I wish I was. It's the same as it was when you decked me third year. You are hot when you're angry. I must be a masochist."

"Oh Draco," she sighed staring up into his eyes. "You just might be exactly-"

Her words were cut off by the doors beside them opening up. She tugged on his hand again, but he held firm.

"Exactly what?" he huskily implored.

Hermione leaned up to whisper in his ear. "If you behave yourself, I'll tell you later." Then she dragged him off into the Great Hall to find a table.

"You'd better," he grumbled behind her. "And I feel I've already earned a reward of some sort for keeping myself so composed back there with Weasel."

"We'll see," she laughed, then stopped dead in her tracks as she took in the sight before her.

The entirety of the Great Hall of Hogwarts was swathed in creams, bronze, and gold. It looked like daylight breaking through just as it had the very moment Voldemort fell. The only indicator that it was still actually night outside was the enchanted ceiling high above them twinkling with brilliant stars on a twilit backdrop. The candles floated over their heads, and fire blazed in braziers along the walls. The overall effect was elegant and breathtaking. Hermione wanted to drink in all of the memories that the Great Hall housed, both good and bad, but the crowd was jockeying behind her for entry as well. With another tug on Malfoy's hand, they began skirting around the circular tables scattered throughout the hall, eagerly taking note of the rest of the decorations.

Tapestries hung suspended near the walls with faces of those lost in battle looking stoically down upon them. Each face would gaze out into the crowd for mere seconds before changing to another lost friend and comrade, no two tapestries showing the same face at once. The largest tapestry hung over where the teachers' table normally sat and alternated between different scenes of the battle itself. Hermione pondered the complex magic that must have been involved to be able to project memories on a tapestry, then speculated to herself who had supplied said memories as a flash of herself, Ron, and Harry appeared. She watched as their teenaged selves soared on broomsticks over flames in the Room of Requirement before switching to an ear-muffed Neville lobbing mandrakes at unseen foes.

"This isn't right," Malfoy said quietly, shaking his head. He too had been watching the different tapestries as though studying them.

"What's not right?" she asked.

"So many people were killed that day," he told her. "So many lost friends, family even."

"Oh." She realized he must be thinking on the impact that the war had had, remembering the dead while she had been dwelling on magic and tapestries. She put a consoling hand on his shoulder.

"He's not up there," Draco suddenly choked out.

Hermione paused, studying the tapestries a little closer. "Who's not up there, Draco?"

"Vince." Draco looked as though he were blinking back tears. "I know he fought for the wrong side. I know he died in such an idiotic way. But… He was my _friend_ , you know? Just like so many up there were yours. We all lost people. Both sides. Would it really be so wrong to show his face?"

Hermione was torn. "Well, maybe the people who put this together thought we'd be uncomfortable having _all_ of the dead looking down on us. I mean…Oh, I don't know how to say this."

"I get it," Draco sighed knowingly. "I wouldn't want Aunt Bella watching me dance with you. She might come back just to curse me for that. But surely there could have been a compromise to show some of both sides? Vince was really just a confused kid like I was when you think about it. There were other Slytherins who came back and fought as well, and a couple even died. More confused kids. We should be able to remember them too."

She had truthfully never thought of it that way before. Whenever she did remember the lives lost that day, she could admit that the Slytherins never crossed her mind. The way that she'd always seen it, there had been the right side and the wrong side, but Draco had a point. Both sides had lost friends and family that day. It must be hard feeling as though you couldn't mourn the loss of someone close to you all because they'd fought for the losing team. What if Voldemort and his Death Eaters had won instead? Well, she'd probably be dead for one, and therefore unable to attend any remembrance ceremonies. But would they think of her? Or Harry? More than likely not, but if there was one thing Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix had prided themselves on, it was holding themselves to a different standard than Voldemort's side. The DA was the light, the DE were the dark. So should the DA members be the bigger people here? She needed to talk this over with someone in charge. Hermione looked around the hall until she found who she was looking for. This wouldn't be easy.

"You know what, Draco?" she asked, straightening herself up. "You're right. I'm going to talk to Harry."


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: Any of y'all have to deal with depression and anxiety? If so, you'll know why it took me longer than normal to update. Been having several bad days lately, and add a toddler on top of that who seems to be winning more than me right now. Plus, for some reason, this chapter just took me awhile to get perfect. I hope y'all love it! :) -L**

Talking to Harry had sounded much easier in Hermione's head. Even just getting near him was proving to be a pretty big feat. The Potters had been seated up at the head table with the important ministry officials and the headmaster of Hogwarts. As Hermione made her way to the front of the Great Hall, she saw Harry being swarmed by people. What would be the most surefire way to get Harry's attention?

Ginny.

It had taken approximately twenty-four hours after Voldemort's defeat before Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter had gotten back together. She had immediately forgiven him for leaving her while he went off hunting horcruxes and planning the demise of the evilest man known to wizarding kind. Ginny had joined Hermione for their seventh year at Hogwarts, where the two girls had roomed together and become as close as sisters.

After leaving Hogwarts, Hermione had gone to work at the ministry and Ginny had accepted a position as a chaser for the all-female Quidditch team, the Holyhead Harpies, after a lavish wedding and honeymoon with Harry of course. After their children came along, Ginny had retired from professional sports and opted to become a Quidditch correspondent for The Daily Prophet. Due to Harry's inevitable fame for being the Chosen One, Ginny had also become an expert society wife.

Hermione could not count how many committees that Ginny served on or how many parties she had attended over the years, watching in awe as Ginny navigated the social hierarchy. Ginny also carefully controlled Harry's interactions at events such as the Memorial Ball. Even now, Hermione could see Ginny positioned casually near Harry and his cluster of well-wishers. Hermione knew from years of experience that if Ginny picked up on any cues that someone was making Harry uncomfortable, Ginny would step in and lead that person away, all in a quick, and charming manner. The offensive person would never even know what happened. Hermione also knew that Ginny's eyes, honed from years of chasing quaffles and dodging bludgers, would be scanning the crowd, looking for any potential "threats", and sure enough Ginny had honed in on Hermione. All she had to do now was wait for Ginny to come to her, and hopefully Harry would follow soon after.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" Ginny asked warily once she reached Hermione. She was obviously tense, though Hermione couldn't fathom why. Still, Ginny stood a couple feet away, seemingly unwilling to come closer, and her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. Hermione smiled to break the tension, yet she was sure the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Ginny, it's so good to see you! You look amazing! That dress- Wow!"

Ginny looked like a character from an old 1950s black and white movie. The dress was black, sleeveless, with a high square neckline, and pearl buttons down the middle of her back. The bodice was form-fitting and the skirt flared out from her waist, ending just past Ginny's knees. All along the skirt, live poppies bloomed in patterns and spirals before closing just to bloom elsewhere on the skirt. Ginny's fiery red hair had been pulled back from its standard bob into a stubby ponytail just above the nape of her neck, held back by a thick black ribbon tied into a bow.

"Mione, you're deflecting." Ginny took two steps closer. "Oh wait, I forgot. You're not 'Mione' anymore."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hermione balked.

Ginny shook her head. "Nothing. This isn't the place to talk about our problems."

"I wasn't aware that we had any-"

"Are you ready for your speech?" Ginny asked, cutting Hermione off.

"What speech?" Hermione stared at Ginny, racking her brain. She hadn't been told that she'd be making a speech, had she? Ginny's eyes lit up. She suddenly threw an arm around Hermione's shoulders, and with a bright smile began leading Hermione in the opposite direction from Harry.

"The speech you're making right after the kids sing," she said. "I'm sure you've prepared something beautiful and heart-wrenching, yet appropriate. I've put you right after Ron so you can clean up any verbal messes he makes. I'll leave you to finish preparing!"

With a two cheek air kiss, Ginny swooped away from a stuttering Hermione. Before Hermione could fully process just how thoroughly Ginny had manipulated that entire interaction, Draco appeared in front of her, holding out a glass of cool champagne.

"Here, drink up. You look like you need it."

Hermione accepted the glass and took a little sip. "Oh, that's good. I've got to be careful though. Champagne always goes straight to my head."

"Duly noted," he grinned. "How'd your talk with Harry go?"

"It didn't," Hermione grimaced. "Ginny cut me off fairly well. I have to make a bloody speech."

"A speech about what? The battle?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, the Goblin Rebellion of 1612."

"Now, now Granger," Draco tutted. "While I love a good sarcastic barb as much as the next person, please try to remember that I'm on your side in this."

"Yes, and I'm still trying to figure out why." Hermione took another little sip of her champagne, then thought better of it and drained her glass.

"Woah there, Granger," Draco scolded her, taking the empty champagne flute from her hand.

She shook her head. "Sorry, you're right. I need to keep a clear head. Oh, Draco, what am I going to do? I can't get up there and speak without at least some preparation!"

"I hate to say this, Hermione, but you may just have to wing it." Draco took her by the arm and began to slowly walk her around the hall through the tables.

"How can you say that?" she glared. "I have never winged… Wang? Wung? Whatever. Either way, I've never done that in my life, and I'm not about to start now, especially for such an auspicious occasion. I wonder if I could just pop up to the library really quick to do some research."

"What research could you need to do on the battle?" Draco scoffed. "We were there Hermione."

"Well, there were parts I wasn't present for because I was in a different part of the castle," she explained. "I would just feel a lot better making a speech if I had some basic statistics, you know, exact numbers of dead and injured. For both sides, of course."

"It's not a bloody History of Magic lecture, Hermione," he cautioned. "If you get up there and start spouting off statistics, I will boo you off the stage myself. Just keep it simple."

"Simple, how?" Hermione asked.

"Honor the fighters, honor the fallen, then toast," he said.

"Honor the fighters, the fallen, toast," she nodded. "Got it."

Draco reached down to take her hands in his. "Great. Now come in. I found us a table with some people I'd love for you to meet."


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello lovelies. :)**

After the dinner plates had all vanished, Hermione sat back in her chair and surveyed her dining companions. She had been confused at first when Draco had introduced her to their table mates, as they seemed to be the most hodgepodge group of prior students there, with exception of Gregory Goyle's wife, Matilda. On Hermione's left sat Draco followed by Gregory, Matilda, Daphne Wood (nee Greengrass), her husband Oliver, Terry Boot, and then on her Hermione's right side was Terry's husband Cormac MacLaggen. They made up Draco's "circle of trust" as he'd called it when he'd introduced Hermione. Throughout dinner, the friends had regaled Hermione with tales of how they'd met their spouses as well as how they came to be among Draco's most trusted friends.

The easiest connection for Hermione to wrap her brain around had been Daphne, what with her being Astoria's sister. Truth be told, Hermione was very much in awe of the stunning blonde sitting across from her. When she had first decided to update her appearance, it had been Daphne's multitude of pictures scattered throughout the society pages of Witch Weekly and the Daily Prophet that had inspired her the most. Here was an example of a woman her own age who was also a wife and mother (of five children no less) that still managed to look flawless in every way, though it was probably easy for Daphne, being a professional quidditch player's wife. She'd been surprised when she had realized that ice queen she remembered from her school days had married the likable Gryffindor and quidditch star.

"She damn near hexed my bollocks right off!" Oliver had said in his lilting Scottish brogue. The whole table erupted in laughter. "There I was, staring down the wand of the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on, and suddenly I remembered her as a Slytherin, so she's got to be on Old Voldy's side, right? Before I can even think to raise my own wand and stun her, she casts a nonverbal expelliarmus, and off goes my wand into her hand. Then before I can even blink, she shoots off a hex, and I think 'Well, this is it' but the spell sizzles right past me and hits this death eater who'd been sneaking up behind me! To this day, I have refused to ask what she did to them."

Daphne giggled. "It wasn't that bad, Ollie! It was a-"

Oliver shook his head at her. "I don't want to know! Anyways, the blue-eyed minx tosses my wand back to me and says 'We can debate about it, or we can go kick some death eater ass!' then grabs my arm and leads me into the fight. She saved my life so many times that night."

"That's amazing," Hermione said.

"You think so?" Daphne asked, turning to Hermione. She nodded in answer. "That's lovely to hear from you, Ms. Granger. I credit you with my learning to fight."

"Me?" Hermione was baffled. She truly couldn't remember herself and Daphne ever exchanging even a passing hello, let alone defense tips. They hadn't even shared Defense Against the Dark Arts together.

"Don't rack your brains so hard," Daphne teased. "You'd never have known it. I don't think I've told anyone other than Oliver. It all started after fifth year, that summer when our O.W.L. results came in. Actually, no further back than that. I'm not sure what Draco has told you about pureblood upbringings."

Hermione shook her head. "He hasn't told me anything. I've done some research over the years however."

"Well, that's a start," Daphne said. "I'm sure you know that my sister and Draco had an arranged marriage? I too was pledged to marry another pureblood wizard."

"I never knew that," Draco responded, obviously confused.

"Hmm, yes." Daphne took a long sip of her wine, and Hermione saw Oliver reach over to take Daphne's hand. "In the wizarding world, expectant parents find out the sex of their baby at the same time they find out they're in the family way. It's a simple spell, and you can decline that information if you wish. My parents, upon hearing the news of having a daughter, signed a magical contract that same afternoon, pledging their unborn daughter to Marcus Flint."

Greg made a disgusted face. "The guy with the horrible teeth?"

Daphne chuckled. "The very same."

Hermione looked back and forth between Oliver and his wife. "So what happened?"

The beautiful blonde shrugged. "Sadly, Mr. Flint died in the Battle of Hogwarts. Or not so sadly, depending on how you look at it, as he was in death eater robes."

"So, not so sad." MacLaggen stated. Hermione rolled her eyes his way.

"True, I wasn't very sad at all when I heard the news." Daphne smiled. "I'd already decided that come hell or high water, I'd find a way to be with Oliver, and with Marcus' passing, we were able to elope three months after the battle. But I'm getting off topic. From the day I was born, I knew my fate would be as a pureblood society wife, and all of my training was aimed at that. I was taught how to run a house; cleaning charms, transfiguring clothing, things of that nature, and it showed when I got my marks on my O.W.L.s. I couldn't even advance in basic subjects like potions or herbology. It really hit home for me when I saw my rubbish score in Defense. There we were, on the cusp of war, and I could barely perform a disarming charm."

"Well it was no wonder," Hermione scoffed. "None of us learnt a thing from Umbridge."

"Ah, but you did somehow," Daphne stated. "And that got me thinking. We'd all heard the rumours of your little army, teaching yourselves Defense right under Umbridge's nose. So, I did the only thing I knew how, and begged my parents to hire me a tutor. Of course though, the tutor they found me taught me nothing of the sort, so I went to all of the bookstores and collected every Defense and dark arts books I could find. I practiced so hard, and began teaching Astoria as well. You see, Pureblood relationships, especially arranged ones, are often fraught with mistreatment from the men, and I'd be damned if my baby sister or I would be taken advantage of. Sorry Draco, but you were quite different in those days."

"No offense taken," Draco mumbled, though Hermione could tell he looked very tense at the implied accusation.

"When I got back to school sixth year, I kept up with my own lessons. It was hard. I couldn't practice in my dorm room, Pansy wouldn't have anything to do with me learning Defense. Tracey was interested, and a handful of others. Luckily, Astoria made a, well, a friend of sorts from your lot, Katie Bell. She helped quite a bit. Taught us all kinds of new spells, and even got us into that room your group used to practice in during fifth year."

"Katie, yes!" Hermione grinned. Katie had been a member of Dumbledore's Army, and a chaser for the Gryffindor quidditch team. "She was such a lovely girl. You know, Oliver, I always saw the two of you hitting it off. No offense, Daphne, you're lovely too."

"Katie?" Oliver scrunched up his nose. "Sorry, but that's gross. She's pretty much my sister."

Daphne laughed, as well as several others at the table, and Hermione felt as though she were missing out on a joke.

"Um, Hermione, Katie and Astoria-" Draco began, but Daphne cut him off.

"Draco! That is not your place!"

"She already knows," Draco shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Daphne stared at him, appalled. "You told her?"

"Circle of trust, remember?" he answered, and turned back to Hermione. "Katie and Astoria are together. They have been since Hogwarts."

"Oh," Hermione said, then, "Ohhhh! Together together?"

Draco nodded.

"Wow, I never would have guessed." Hermione looked at Oliver. "And that's why you said Katie's your sister? Well, that makes sense, she would be then, yes. Okay. I think we're all on the same page. Someone please change the subject, so that I can stop rambling now."

Draco laughed, and pulled Hermione in close to him with the arm he'd draped across her chair.

"I know," he beamed. "Goyle, tell Hermione here how you and Matilda met. She'll get a kick out of that."

"Oh yes, please!" Hermione nodded eagerly. "I'd love to know more about you as well, Matilda. Were you homeschooled? I don't remember you from Hogwarts."

"Please, call me Tilly," the handsome woman responded in her posh voice. "No, I wasn't allowed to attend Hogwarts. You see, I'm what you people call a Muggle."

 **Author's Note: Thank y'all for not giving up on me! Once again, this chapter was so difficult to get started for some reason. I knew what I wanted to write, but just not exactly how to get there. Lots of deleting and editing went into this chapter, and I truly hope you enjoyed it. Now, we have a couple more chapters of getting to know Draco's so-called "circle of trust". They're a pretty eclectic bunch, aren't they? I really want to tell you their backstories before we get back to the festivities and many more familiar faces will come out to play. Once we leave the ball, we'll start revving up the Dramione action, so be patient. I'll give you lots of little teasers beforehand though. By the way, for those who have messaged me and told me how much they did not care for Ginny in the last chapter, I'm sorry. I don't like her much either, but there are reasons, I promise, and yes they will come to light before too long. :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Y'all. We are very swiftly closing in on 10,000 total views for this story! That is insane! I love you all, and I'm going to go celebrate with a chocolate chip cookie!**

Hermione stared at Tilly with her mouth agape. Her table mates started laughing at her response to Tilly's announcement. A part of her told her she needed to close her mouth and quit looking so shocked, but Hermione just couldn't wrap her brain around what Tilly had said. Gregory Goyle had married a Muggle? It just wasn't possible. He along with Draco and Vincent Crabbe had been Hermione's biggest tormentors back in school. The last time she could recall seeing Greg, he'd been trying to kill her at the battle, and he'd never been one to shy away from calling her a mudblood. What had changed?

"Goodness me, you're not one of those blood purity fanatics, are you, Ms. Granger?" Tilly asked, her face haughty. Greg choked on his wine beside her, and the rest of the table broke out in raucous laughter. Hermione shook her head vehemently.

"Good," Tilly continued. "There's no place for racism in this modern world. Plus, I get more than my share of that from my in laws."

"Muggleborn." Hermione blurted out.

Tilly rolled her eyes. "No, dear, I'm not Muggleborn, I'm just plain Muggle."

Hermione straightened herself up in her chair, composing herself. "No, no. Muggleborn. I'm Muggleborn."

"Oh, how delightful!" Tilly clapped her hands, grinning around the table. "Finally someone to talk to to who understands things like a telly and electricity! Honestly, why must you all insist on using candlelight for everything? I mean, the lighting is much more flattering, but do you know how hard it is to find a home in this day and age that isn't wired?"

"Yes!" Hermione burst out. "I had such a time when I was looking for flats in London. I finally just took the risk, and bought a lovely property with electricity. I've yet to have a problem with my magic causing any issues, but I did cast a few simple charms, just in case."

"Hopefully Malfoy Enterprises will be changing all of that soon," Terry Boot stated. "I for one would fancy being able to charge my iPad without the risk of magical surge."

"Did you not download the latest update?" Draco asked him. "We rolled it out last month, Terry."

"Yeah, I haven't had any surge issues in weeks, thankfully," Oliver added.

"I know I reminded you about the update," Cormac said to Terry. "I'll take a look at it when we get back to the hotel."

"I can take a look right now if you brought it with you," Draco offered.

"Nah, I didn't want to risk the magic of the castle messing anything up."

"Good point," Draco nodded. "Although, I still brought my mobile. I should probably make sure it's okay." He started digging through the pockets of his robe, and Hermione saw a couple of the others do the same.

"Time out!" Hermione belted. Everyone paused. "Terry, you have an iPad? Draco with a mobile? Your company works with Muggle technology?"

"Look, it even has a built-in sneakoscope!" Draco waved his mobile at her.

"What?" She reached out for his phone. "No, wait, this is all too fascinating and I really need to know more, but we're straying once again from the important topic at hand."

"And that is?" Daphne asked.

"Goyle married a Muggle!" Hermione pointed accusingly at Greg, and he blushed.

"Oh, that," Daphne waved a dismissive hand. "Sorry, we've known Tilly for so long now, the whole thing's just old hat."

"It's not even that great of a story," Greg muttered, clearly uncomfortable having any attention on himself.

"I wouldn't say that," Tilly said. "I think it was awfully romantic."

Hermione's eyes bugged out. Goyle, a romantic? "Okay, now I must know!"

"Well, after the war was over, Draco went through his whole conversion to the lighter side of things," Goyle began. "I was one of the few Slytherins who still talked to Draco. I hadn't quite seen things his way, yet, but he did make me curious. He used to tell me that Muggles really weren't the animals we had always believed them to be, and about his forays into Muggle London, and how amazing it was that they were a developed and educated people. The things they had to replace magic and so on. Most of the others like Nott, Zabini, Pansy… well, they thought Draco was crazy, and faded out of our lives to a point. Again, I wasn't fully convinced, but Malfoy was all I had left, so I humoured him mostly. He told me that we'd make a trek to London, the Muggle side, and I could see everything for myself."

"Is that how you met Tilly?" Hermione interrupted. "Was she your waitress in some Muggle café or something?"

Goyle grinned. "Yes and no. On the day we were to go to London, Draco was called away on business by his father, and I noticed the weirdest thing. I was actually disappointed. I guess I'd been looking forward to the trip more than I'd thought. I paced around my parents' drawing room all morning, trying to decide if I could be brave enough to go alone. If Draco could do it, how hard could it really be?"

"Oi!" Draco said, but Hermione shushed him.

"So I made my decision and apparated right to Diagon Alley before I could think too much about it. I stopped in the Leaky Cauldron for a pint, and kept staring at the door leading out to the Muggle world. I even saw a handful of witches and wizards coming in and they all seemed okay. I gathered my courage and barged out of the door-"

"And ran right into me!" Tilly chuckled. "Literally. I couldn't see the door, so all I knew was this oaf appeared out of nowhere, truly, and knocked me down."

"I heard someone yelling at me to watch it, and I look down, and there she was. The most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on, sprawled out on the pavement." Goyle and Tilly exchanged a smile, and Hermione studied Tilly for a moment. The woman was large, stockily built, with a somewhat horsey face. She had large teeth, but her smile and eyes were kind.

"He reached down to help me up," Tilly picked up. "I told him very eloquently to sod off. He was so funny, standing there stammering and wearing the oddest clothes! He asked me to have lunch, but I thought he was absolutely insane! I left him standing there while I took off back to my office a few blocks away, praying that this crazy man wouldn't follow."

"Did you follow her?" Hermione asked.

"No," Greg said. "Instead I stood there waiting for her to come back. And then every day for three weeks, I woke up at dawn and went to wait outside the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the old barkeep would bring me my meals. Probably didn't help with the crazy man impression."

"I thought he was homeless," Tilly admitted.

"So you saw him waiting there every day?" Hermione asked her.

"Yes, of course," Tilly chuckled. "I even wore different hats and bought a hooded coat so I could hide."

"Well then, what changed? Did he finally spot you?"

Tilly shook her head. "No, I had enough. I marched right up to him and demanded to know why he was standing there on the corner every day. He told me that he'd been waiting for me to answer his invitation to lunch."

"Who knew Gregory could be so sweet?" Daphne teased. Hermione agreed that it sounded very out of character.

Greg blushed, and quickly resumed the story. "Tilly couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all, so I let her choose the lunch spot. It got pretty embarrassing at the end though since I didn't have any Muggle money to pay."

"Yes, this dashing young man takes me out, but had no money!" Tilly teased, and Hermione had to keep herself from choking on her cheesecake over Tilly calling Goyle "dashing". "I went ahead and paid, swearing to myself that I would never fall for his tricks again, and I left him there. But then there he was again, outside the Leaky Cauldron the very next day."

"I had gone to Gringotts, and exchanged loads of Galleons so that I'd be ready. I begged her to give me another chance. She told me that if I were still there when she got off of work, I could take her to dinner. So I waited."

"And I forgot," Tilly said shamefully. "I went out with some other ladies from my office that night, and as it was a Friday, I didn't see him again until Monday. Oh, I felt so bad!"

"Bad enough to let me buy her dinner for three nights which was all I needed to get her to stop feeling sorry for me and fall in love instead." Greg grinned.

"That is such a sweet story," Terry sighed. "It's so much better than ours."

"Didn't you just meet at school?" Hermione asked. She now assumed Cormac had just been closeted, and she'd been a beard for him when he had accompanied her to Professor Slughorn's Christmas party. Though if that were the case, he'd done a very good job of hiding his homosexuality. Maybe he's bisexual. That would explain things.

"Actually, we didn't know each other in school at all," Cormac answered in that pompous way of his. "I didn't associate much with those younger than me. You, of course, were an exception to that, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course." Draco was staring daggers at Cormac, she noticed. Did he not know about her one date with him? It hardly seemed a big deal now. She put her hand on top of Draco's as a token of assurance. "So then where did you two run into each other?"

"In the most unlikely of places," Terry said. "We met at an inpatient rehab facility."

Rehab? Hermione spit out her wine.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I'm uploading this through my app. Fingers crossed that it works! My laptop has been messing up. It may be time to upgrade.**

Daphne let out a delicate little snort of laughter, Tilly tsked, Goyle blushed, Cormac rolled his eyes, and Hermione set about wiping up the spit out wine while glaring at Malfoy who was laughing so hard, his eyes had tears in them.

"Oh, Granger, darling, I could just kiss you," Draco said with a swipe to his eyes. "Truly, that was the most perfect reaction! Makes me wish we'd told you about them first."

Hermione didn't think it possible that her eyes could squint any harder at him. "Glad I could amuse you so. It was just a bit of a shock is all. I mean, rehab? Who would have thought?" Her mind began to wander over all of the possible reasons that Terry  
and Cormac could have been in a rehabilitation facility. Had it been the same issue for both, and they had found a bond as they kicked their habits together? Had they been firewhiskey addicts? Or had it been some kind of potion? Ooh, or maybe…. Could  
it have been a sex addiction? Oh, the possibilities were endless!

"Granger, stop," Draco chuckled. "I can practically see those wheels turning frantically in your mind."

"Too many choices," she whispered as she stared hazy eyed at Terry and Cormac. It took a second before her eyes focused back in, and she noticed the looks on their faces. Terry looked almost forlorn, while Cormac's eyes were drilling holes into hers.

"Our personal struggles are not to be made light of," he snapped.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione mumbled sheepishly. "It's just things like rehab can be quite prevalent in the Muggle world, but almost nonexistent here."

"Yes, I know," Cormac stated, his words still very clipped. "In fact, there's only one rehabilitation center in all of wizarding society, all the way in Switzerland. It's a bear to even find it, much less get in. You should have more respect that we were  
so set on getting better that we even went at all."

"Sweetheart, stop, you're making her uncomfortable," Terry said, placing a hand on Cormac's arm. "Hermione didn't mean any harm. Surely you remember how she was when presented with new information like that." Hermione flushed deeply. "Hermione, please  
don't feel bad. I don't. I'm not ashamed of what I went through. Neither is Cormac. Our issues make us better people for what we went through, at least that's how I see it."

"Well, I for one am going to go mingle since I know this story," Daphne interrupted. "Ollie, come with me. You too Tilly, Greg. In fact, I see someone I'd love to introduce you to, Tilly. Come on!" With that, half of their table left to socialize. Draco  
cast a muffliato charm around the remaining patrons. Hermione knew then that this was definitely a serious conversation, despite how lightly it may have started.

"Thank you Draco," Terry said before turning his attention back to Hermione. "Like I said, I'm not ashamed of my past, but there are too many prying eyes and ears at gatherings of this nature, and Cormac and myself deal with some high profile clients  
who might not like knowing that we're reformed drug addicts."

"Understandably," Hermione nodded. "So it was a potion addiction then?"

"Yes, though different ones for each of us," Terry confirmed. "I was hooked on calming draughts. Started them innocently enough back here at Hogwarts during exam times, but became heavily dependent after the war."

Hermione closed her eyes. She too had had her fair share of experience with calming draughts after the war. Some days, those little phials were all that could get her through sunrise to sunset. She still remembered the look in Madame Pomfrey's eyes when  
Hermione would show up at the infirmary door in tears for her next fix. It was as though Madame Pomfrey regretted everything the children had gone through as well as what they had to do to live with it.

"I reached a point where I could not even get out of bed without downing some of that peace, anything to help me forget." Terry paused, reaching out to take hold of his husband's hand before continuing. "That's when I knew I needed help, but where to  
go? St. Mungo's wasn't any help. If you need a mind healer, they're more apt to lock you up in the Janus Thickey ward and keep you sedated, and I was sedating myself well enough without their help. It took me almost a full year after deciding to get  
help before I found out about the facility in Switzerland, and then I had to save enough money to go. It was definitely worth every Knut though, for sure.

"Cormac and I actually checked in together on the same day, and were assigned to be each other's roommates. Those first few days of being forced to go cold turkey were almost as hellish as the nightmares I was suddenly seeing every time I closed my eyes.  
And Cormac wasn't helping, biting my head off each time I so much as looked in his direction."

"So it's safe to say that it wasn't love at first sight?" Hermione joked. Terry gave a small chuckle, but Cormac was back to scowling at her as he stirred his swizzle stick around his drink.

"McLaggen, do you have a problem with my date?" Draco asked quietly. Hermione and Terry both stiffened at the coldness radiating through Draco's voice.

"Don't try to go all schoolyard bully and intimidate me, Malfoy," Cormac scoffed. "You and I are on even footing these days. I just do not understand what you are doing here with Granger for one thing, and why we're all suddenly spilling deep, dark secrets  
to her of all people. Yes, we may have all gone to school together a hundred years ago, but we all live different lives these days, and it's not like she's going to be around tomorrow. Am I right?" He turned to Hermione with a calculated look on his  
face.

Se met Cormac's gaze nervously. "Draco and I are here as friends," she began timidly. "As we explained earlier, mind you. A for what tomorrow brings, well, I'll admit that we haven't discussed that, nor have I even really given it a thought."

"So you can see how I may take issue with you knowing things about Terry and I that w wouldn't want anyone to spread around in the gossip columns?" Cormac blustered.

"Now see here!" Draco yelled. "Hermione would be the last person to go spilling secrets to those rags!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "While I appreciate the vote of confidence in my character, you truly don't know that, Draco. No. You don't." She reiterated when he tried to speak up again. "How about I make you a deal, Cormac? I'll tell you a secret as well.  
It's only fair."

"What kind of secret?" he sneered.

"Something I've never admitted to anyone, of course," she told him. A thought popped into her head. "Actually, something involving you."

Cormac narrowed his gaze at her. "What secret could you possibly have that involves me? That you only dated me back in school to make Weasley jealous? Because that's no secret."

"No," she said sweetly while trying to make her grimace look like a smile. "Do you remember your Quidditch tryout?"

"Of course," Cormac said slowly. At his side, Terry perked up. Draco just looked back and forth between Cormac and Hermione, obviously confused.

"I confunded you to miss that last save," Hermione declared. Cormac paled as his eyes went wide. Draco still look confused. Terry however groaned and shook his head.

"That was the wrong thing to say," he said.

 **A/N Pt. 2: As I said at the beginning, my laptop has been wonky. It's about five years old, which is of course a hundred in tech years. I may have to start looking at new options. If y'all are still with me, thank you! I love each and every one of you! There will be some changes to my profile soon, so be on the lookout for those. Also, while know I love to personally answer each and every review, but I haven't figured out how to do that through my app. As soon as I'm back up at full capacity, I will answer y'all! Still feel free to review here. If you want, I'm also on Tumblr. Same name. I love to hear from y'all on there as well. :)**

 **Lastly, a question: who are your Dramione face casts? Do you picture Tom and Emma or others? Let me know!**


	17. Chapter 17

"Seriously, Hermione," Terry moaned. "Out of all of the things you could have told him… Why couldn't it be that you snuck a canary cream on his plate or something?"

Hermione's smug smile faltered as Cormac let out a small growl. She had assumed that her revelation of confunding Cormac all those years ago at the Quidditch tryouts would be a laugh. A slight dig to his ego, sure, but a laugh all the same.

Draco coughed. "You confunded someone while they were on a broom hundreds of meters in the air? Why?"

With a flush of her cheeks, Hermione answered. "So Ron would make the team," she muttered. "In my defense though, Cormac was acting in an absolutely insufferable manner. Even Harry agreed with what I did."

"Potter knew?!" Cormac exclaimed. Terry groaned again, reaching a comforting hand out that Cormac brushed off.

"Wait, wait," Draco said. "I thought you said you'd never told anyone, but now you said that Potter knew about this."

Hermione shook her head. "What I said was that I'd never admitted it to anyone. While Harry voiced his suspicions, I don't believe I ever confirmed them."

"And you say that he agreed with what you did?" Draco asked.

"Well, I guess 'agreed' is the wrong term," Hermione clarified. "Though it's not like he felt the need for a retrial. As I said, Cormac had been very insufferable that day, and as he proved when he actually got to play with the team, he was not a good fit for the Keeper position."

"Not a good fit?!" Cormac's voice was strained. "Not a goo- You know what? This is the problem with bullies-"

"I beg your pardon!" Hermione scoffed. "I am not now, nor have I ever been a bully! I'll have you know-"

"You're right, maybe bully wasn't the right word," Cormac countered. "How about bitch? Is bitch better?"

Draco slammed a hand down on the table. "Cormac! Really! You are out of line!"

But Cormac was not to be deterred. "I am not! Do you know how many times I have played that day over and over and OVER in my head trying to see where I went wrong? Only now I learn that I did NOTHING wrong! Except cross paths with the most petty, vindictive witch to enter Hogwarts!"

"Petty?! Vindictive?!" Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had been so insulted. Being one of the saviors of the Wizarding world came with some perks, not the least being that most people tended to speak of you with respect.

"You hexed me while I was on a broom-"

"Confundus is classified as a charm," Hermione corrected. "It's not a hex."

"My point is," Cormac growled out, "that a teenaged witch hit me with a confundus charm while I was on a broom hundreds of meters in the air, as Draco said."

"Leave me out of this," Draco said, taking a sip of his drink. Hermione cast him a pleading look, yet he refused to meet her eyes. Cormac powered on, his barbs hitting new, softer, more sensitive targets.

"What if I had fallen? What if I had been hurt? Did you think of any of that? No! You only thought of yourself and that Weasley git! And how did that work out, by the way? Was he so overjoyed to have made the team that he ran right into your arms? Did he, like Potter, suspect your involvement, your cheat, and fulfill your silly schoolgirl daydreams of him right then and there?"

"You go too far," Hermione choked out, blinking furiously to keep the tears at bay. Again, she looked to Draco to come to her aid, her defense, anything. He stared resolutely at his phone in his hands. The screen was black as he twirled it around an inch above his palm with magic. Hermione figured that he was kicking himself for so quickly agreeing to be her date this evening. Terry was now pulling at Cormac, whispering what were sure to be soothing words in his ear.

Hermione slumped back in her chair, fiddling with the clasp on her purse. If she weren't here, this argument would have never happened. If it weren't for her, Draco could be enjoying the evening with his friends. And what about her? What about her friends? Surely she could have been at a table with Neville and Hannah or someone like that. Granted, she hadn't spoken to them in some time either. She didn't even know for sure if they were here, though it was a safe bet that they were. She should leave now before she caused anymore unrest.

"Draco?" she said timidly. "Maybe this… I should just… oh, how do I say this?"

"Hmm?" He still didn't look at her.

Hermione's confidence was waning fast. She'd spent so many years alone, hiding away from the world, and all she'd wanted was this night to make a splash. To prove to the gossip columnists, her old friends, and to be perfectly honest, her ex-husband that she wasn't going to close herself off away from the world anymore. She wanted to show everyone that there was still life in the old girl yet. To make them all see that she could still turn heads, in a good way of course.

Yes, maybe she'd been too hasty choosing Draco to accompany her, but he had fit so well into her plans. He'd been perfect really. He still held a lot of clout in their world. He was powerful, rich, and she could admit it, so very good looking. They got on well, they really did, surprisingly so. Hermione had hoped they could look past, well, their pasts, and enjoy the evening. Draco seemed willing and able to accept the new and improved Hermione. But then she'd gone and made a mess of things with Cormac. She'd let him get to her; let him find her insecurities and lay them bare. Merlin, she'd handed him the ammunition when she'd brought up her misdeed. She could salvage this, though. She'd handled tougher cases than Cormac McLaggen. Maybe she and Draco could go find Neville and Hannah together. Yes, that could work. She straightened her back, cleared her throat, and tried again. Hermione reached out to touch Draco's arm.

"Hold on," he said. "Cormac, how can you say that?"

"What?" Hermione asked.

Oh, bugger. In all of her internal ramblings, she hadn't noticed that Cormac was now getting heated with Terry. When would this night end?

"Draco, I thought you were staying out of this," Cormac warned. Hermione opened her mouth to ask what the issue was now, but closed it again as Terry subtly shook his head. Draco placed his phone back on the table, and leaned across Hermione, stretching one arm across the back of her chair as he angled towards Cormac.

"I didn't say I was staying out of this," Draco sneered. "I asked that you leave me out of it."

"Then let me state my mind," Cormac snarled. "Stay out of this. It has nothing to do with you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, Cormac. You just made it something to do with me. Hermione is at this table as my guest. For you to now be accusing her of ruining your life-"

"She did!" Cormac exploded. "She did ruin my life! Draco, you know the hell I went through back then, and it started that day! And to find out now that it was her fault-"

"It was not her fault!" Draco leapt to his feet, towering over the table and glowering down at McLaggen. "You're right, I do know your history. I also knew what a prat you were back then as well. We were all prats! We all made mistakes! You've been perfectly fine blaming yourself for all of these years, just like the rest of us. Yes, Hermione made a mistake, but she didn't force those potions down your throat. Nor did your father. You did, man! It was all you!"

"Potions? What potions?" Hermione interjected as Draco sat back down, meeting her confused state with a pointed gaze. "Oh, right. The rehab."

Cormac gave her a quelling look. "She needs to take responsibility for the lives she ruined."

"I may have made mistakes," Hermione said firmly, yet quietly, "but I did not ruin any lives that I know of."

"Marietta Edgecombe."

Cormac's words seemed to hover over the table like a sickening black cloud amongst the brightness of the room. Terry let out a small gasp. To her left, she heard Draco whisper "That was you?"

"Cormac, dear," Terry said softly. "That wasn't really Hermione's fault. Not really. We all signed that paper."

"Thank you, Terry," Hermione said. "I didn't target anyone specifically with that jinx. Anyone who signed their name and decided to rat us out would have had those spots."

"But she never fixed them," Cormac stated. "Did she? She could have fixed them at any time after that, yet she chose not to."

Hermione's heart sunk as Draco pulled away from her slightly.

"You're almost right," Hermione answered. "I did try… but it was too late."

Cormac looked victorious. He opened his mouth to speak again, a smug grin etched across his face, but was cut off by a voice booming throughout the Great Hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the female spoke. "Our program will begin in ten minutes. If you will please make your way back to your seats." A brief pause. "Except for our featured speakers. If you will please make your ways to the antechamber just behind the Head Table. Thank you."

"That's me," Hermione sighed. Draco wasn't meeting her eyes again. "Listen, I'll take my things with me. Maybe I'll find somewhere else to sit after the speeches."

"Wait, why?" Draco asked, alarm creeping into his voice.

She gave him a small, apologetic smile. "It's for the best." With that, she gathered her things and walked away.

 **A/N: Big woohoo for my muse coming back in full force! Still updating from my phone, and trying my best. I know FF was apparently having some issues yesterday, but man, it was nice waking up to all of y'all reviews and follow/favorite alerts today! We're going to see some new old faces next chapter, including one that I know several of y'all have been waiting for! I have now gotten this story mapped out all the way to the end. I know it's been a little PWP till now, but the action is really going to be ramping up from here.**

 **I mentioned the reviews. Again, not quite able to respond personally yet. I know there's a way to do it from here on my phone, but I just haven't been able to get to it yet. I especially loved the review calling Cormac a twat. Yes. Yes, he is. As you can probably tell from one of the lines I gave him in this chapter, I firmly believe that if there's Bravo in the Wizarding world, Cormac McLaggen would definitely have a reality show.**

 **Lastly, I know that there are still errors in this story. One day, I will go back and fix them all. Right now I'm just trying to finish this story out, while potty training my two year old, so please be kind. This is my first fanfiction. I'll get there, y'all.**


	18. Chapter 18

Hermione couldn't fathom why each step that she took away from Draco seemed harder than the last, and she toyed with the idea of turning right back around to fix things with him. Maybe she'd even apologize to Cormac despite all of the horrible things he'd said to her. She couldn't believe he'd called her the most petty and vindictive witch to ever enter Hogwarts. She may have held a grudge here and there, and yes, she could admit that confunding him while on his broom was really very dangerous and poorly reasoned in hindsight, but she hadn't been as bad as he'd made her out. Didn't he remember Pansy Parkinson? Or worse, Umbridge?

 _Ugh, focus_ , she scolded herself. _I should be thinking about what I'm going to say up on that stage very soon._ Sod Ginny and the speech she expected Hermione to make. What could Hermione say really that hadn't been said over the years? _No_ , she thought, _these people look up to me. Ginny wouldn't have asked me to make a speech if she didn't think that I would have something poignant to say even if I don't_.

As much as she hated it, she would have to heed Draco's advice of winging her speech and the thought made her nauseous. Maybe she should pop over to the loo real quick. She still had a few moments left before she needed to be in the antechamber. She quickened her steps and pushed through the doors leading out of the Great Hall.

The corridor smelt of chalk and that amazing aroma of ancient stone. The air around her tingled with faint traces of magic. Hermione let out a contented sigh. Hogwarts would always feel closer to home than anywhere else in her life. True, there were times at Hogwarts that weren't always sunshine and roses, such as fighting trolls, being turned into a cat, and watching as the castle she loved was destroyed by the darkest wizard to exist, but Hermione still felt such overwhelming nostalgia anytime she harkened back to her days roaming these halls.

She wished fervently that she had more than a few fleeting moments to wander around. Once more, she contemplated blowing off the speech portion of the evening. She could always lie and say she'd gotten caught on a trick staircase or something. She paused outside the lavatory door, weighing her chances of getting out of the speech, when a voice from inside the restroom froze her solid.

"Daphne, darling, don't play coy with me. We know each other too well."

"I don't know what you're alluding to, Pansy. I have nothing to tell you."

Hermione knew exactly what Pansy wanted from Daphne- _her_. Pansy was the society writer for The Daily Prophet, and seemed to pride herself on being this generation's very own Rita Skeeter. If there was a particularly nasty story about someone, you could bet that Pansy's name was on the byline. Each and every nasty article about Hermione and Ron's divorce, complete with copious made up "facts" about how Hermione must have driven Ron away, and always, _always_ accompanied by the horrible picture, was from Pansy's quill. If it were Rita Skeeter spewing acid about Hermione, she would know how to deal with her. Unfortunately, Hermione had no such leverage on Pansy. Maybe, though, she could listen in on Pansy and Daphne. Surely Pansy's guard would be lowered if she were talking with such an old friend, and maybe she would say something that Hermione could use later.

"Oh please," Pansy said sweetly. "I've seen you chatting with Granger all night as though you were bosom buddies. Something must have slipped out."

"We're hardly bosom buddies, as you say," Daphne scoffed. Rude. "What are you so interested in her anyhow? Surely there are enough stories around here to fill your columns for weeks that'd be much more compelling than boring old Hermione Granger."

Ouch. Hermione thought that she and Daphne had gotten along pretty well for two people that had never really spoken to each other before. She'd even contemplated adding the Woods to her Christmas card list. That won't be happening now.

Pansy cackled with laughter. "You're so right about the boring part! She's a bloody hermit! Never does anything worth writing about."

"And yet her name is scattered about your pages fairly regularly," Daphne mused. "What's that about? Is it just your petty teenaged hatred coming out to play?"

"Well, now I'm confused," Pansy said. "What petty teenaged hatred are you referring to?"

"Draco's belated birthday party after fourth year."

There was a long pause, and Hermione had to press her ear to the door to be able to hear Pansy's choked whisper of "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't forget that I was the one to find you in Narcissa Malfoy's shrubbery after Draco got drunk and told everyone that he thought Hermione Granger was the prettiest girl at Hogwarts. Though in his defense, you were the moron who asked the question once you realized that the bottle of firewhiskey Draco had stolen from Lucius's stash was laced with veritaserum."

Pansy gasped. "You vowed you would never speak of that-"

"Then you should know better than to play coy with me," Daphne threatened. "As you said, we know each other too well for that. So is that what this is all about? Why you keep dragging Granger through the mud in your columns? All because Draco found her prettier than you nearly thirty years ago?"

"Hardly," Pansy snapped. "Though it didn't hurt when I was approached with the deal."

 _Now we're talking_ , Hermione thought.

"What deal?" Daphne asked. "Who would possibly want to make a deal with you about Hermione Granger?" There was another pause where Hermione could practically hear Pansy's smile through the stone and mortar. "Wait, let me guess. This has something to do with your little friendship with one Ginny Potter. Why would she want to tear down Hermione? They were family for so long!"

"Exactly," Pansy said smugly. "They _were_ family. But the deal had nothing to do with Granger at first. Ginny offered me exclusives on the Potters as long as I kept them free of scandal. I think she knew we'd be much better allies than foes, though like I'd print anything nasty about precious Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World. I'd be hanged in the streets! But Ginny was smart, and extended the arrangement to all of her family. Do you know how boring that got? I mean, that family is as straight and narrow as they come, but still! I couldn't write so much as a word about any of them being spotted at a pub without Ginny removing my unfettered access to the Potters."

"So what changed?" Daphne pressed.

"The Weasleys divorced." Pansy stated. "I think Ginny was nervous that Ron had done something like cheat, so she came to me the night she found out, and told me that it was now no holds barred on Hermione. Unfortunately, like you already pointed out, Granger is boring with a capital B. I've even had her followed for years, but the most I've gotten was that ridiculous picture of her licking sauce from her finger. Embarrassing? Yes. Scandalous? Not in the least. Yet now, here she is, showing up out of nowhere, looking better than she has ever looked, on the arm of Draco Malfoy, and I can't print a word of it unless I get a scoop of some sort!"

It was now Daphne's turn to laugh. "Oh, right, because Draco has that deal with you too about him! You've really got to stop making so many deals with everyone if you want to stay in this business, Pansy."

"Don't I know it?" Pansy whined. "Though you should be grateful. Everyone would know about Astoria if it weren't for me."

"You had your own dormitory dalliances as I recall," Daphne said. "By the way, how is Millicent these days?"

"How's Tracey?" Pansy retorted.

"Touché. She's dead though. Surely you knew that."

"Yes, sorry," Pansy apologized in a much softer tone. "But you must tell me about Granger and Draco. I won't even use your name in the quote! Are they dating?"

"Pansy…" Daphne's ice queen tone was back. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to find someone else to help you besmirch Hermione this time."

Hermione was surprised by that. Maybe Daphne wasn't such a bad egg after all. If Daphne held firm against Pansy's plotting against her, Hermione might concede to send her a muffin basket. Though she wondered whether a woman like Daphne even ate carbs anymore.

"Besides," Daphne continued. "Would it be so surprising if they were dating? We've all known that Draco fancied her for years. He never even hid it that well."

Pansy snorted. "True. Does he still carry her chocolate frog card in his wallet?"

Daphne groaned. "Did Astoria tell you about that? Oh, sweet Circe!"

"You're not the only Greengrass I'm friendly with," Pansy stated. "She told me all about how he ordered a case of frogs when the Trio cards were released just so he could find Granger's card. Then once he found it, he donated the other cards to the infirmary here, and put her card in his wallet so he would always have it to look at. Pathetic."

"I thought it was sweet." Hermione nodded in stunned agreement with Daphne's statement. She wanted to run back to the Great Hall right then, and apologize before snogging Draco senseless in front of everyone, but was pulled back to the ladies's conversation.

"-should just go ahead with the new tip I received about the weasel last night," Pansy was saying. "My Ginny deal may be coming to a close anyways."

"Why's that?" Daphne asked.

"Well, I probably shouldn't tell you this," Pansy teased. _Oh, please do_ , Hermione urged. "One of the reasons I've been so keen to play along with Ginny's game the last couple of years is because I've been seeing her oldest son, James, but I think that ship has run its course."

Hermione gaped at the bathroom door, tuning out anymore conversation as she fought the urge to vomit. Pansy was seeing James? Her nephew, James?! She leaned heavily against the wall, taking deep breaths, and closing her eyes as she tried to process this new information. She certainly had ammunition against Pansy now. Though if she would be ending the relationship-Hermione shuddered- how would she be able to use this?

Her mind also reeled at the revelation that Ginny had teamed up with Pansy to try to ruin her. Why would Ginny do such a thing? Did she really hate her that much for divorcing her brother? There was no other motive that Hermione could see. She had half a mind to march into the Great Hall and tear Ginny a new one. _Oh Merlin_ , she thought. Surely her ten minutes had long since passed. Ginny would be on the war path for sure for Hermione skipping the speech. Well, all the more reason to have it out with her tonight. It's not as though Hermione had wanted to make the damned speech in the first place. She pushed away from the wall, and crashed right into something solid. _Or someone_ , she thought, as two hands grasped tightly to her arms to steady her.

"What is it with you and these bathrooms, Hermione?" the stranger asked.

 **A/N: Who do you think it is?**


	19. Chapter 19

"Oh!" Hermione let out a relieved sigh as she looked up into Harry Potter's spectacled green eyes. "Thank Merlin it's just you!"

"Just me?" Harry scoffed with a grin. "Gee, Hermione, you sure know how to flatter a guy." He let her go as she was now steady on her heeled feet.

"Oh, you know what I mean," she chided. "This castle is full of all kinds of things! For all I know, you could have been the Bloody Baron or something!"

"And if I were, you'd have face planted on the stones," he said. "I mean, really. You're smart enough to know that."

Hermione let out a quiet laugh, then cleared her throat. This was the first time she had spoken to Harry in so long, and she was suddenly very aware of that as he looked down at his shuffling feet. She also reminded herself that Daphne and Pansy could exit the lavatory at any moment, and she certainly did not want to be standing here making awkward conversation with Harry Potter when they did.

"Well, thank you for breaking my fall," Hermione said. "But shouldn't we make our way back now? I'm sure we're very late. Ginny must be having kittens over us." Hermione began walking down the corridor, back towards the Great Hall, and Harry quickly fell into step alongside her.

"Yeah, I actually came to find you for that very reason," he said. "It's not like you to be late. Plus, I figured it'd be better for me to come after you as opposed to, well, the other options."

"Meaning either my ex-husband or his sister?" she joked. "Yes, you're most certainly the better option."

Harry coughed. He was obviously uncomfortable. "Uh, yeah…"

"We don't have to talk about it," Hermione said.

"No, no it's fine," he replied. Still, they turned the corner in silence, even as Harry held back a tapestry for Hermione to cross through a short passage. Just as they came upon the hallway leading to the room off of the Great Hall, Harry interrupted the silence with "Soooo… Malfoy? _Really_?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We don't have to talk about that either."

A few more steps, and then, "It's just, well, it's _Malfoy_ of all people, Hermione. We _hate_ him, and-"

"Ugggh, Harry!" They halted right outside the door to the antechamber, and Hermione faced Harry straight on, balled fists on her hips. "We were children," she said. "And besides, we never truly hated him. At least I didn't."

Harry paused for a moment. "Is this just to get back at Ron? I mean, he said you seemed pretty surprised when Malfoy told him that the two of you were coming here together. I just want to understand."

"I was surprised because I didn't think we needed to tell anyone our plans," she lied.

Harry's brow furrowed. "So you've been seeing each other? Why didn't I know about this?"

"It's not as though you talk to me anymore," she responded quietly, smoothly deflecting the first question.

"I guess…" he muttered.

Hermione sighed. "Draco's nice. I enjoy his company. That's all you need to know."

"Nice, right," Harry scoffed. "And it has nothing to do with Ron?"

"Please," Hermione said. "Give me a little credit. I'm not some dewy-eyed schoolgirl flaunting a fake boyfriend around to get Ronald Weasley's attention." The tension between them broke immediately as Harry laughed at her statement.

"How is Cormac?" Harry asked with a cheeky grin. "I saw you two earlier. Rehashing old feelings, were we?"

"Oh, shut up, Potter," she sneered.

"Potter and a sneer? Malfoy is really rubbing off on you."

"Hmm, not yet," she replied with a cheeky smile of her own.

"Ewwww…." Harry complained as Hermione chuckled. Just then, the door to the antechamber opened and Harry and Hermione found themselves face to face with Ginny Potter.

"Where have you been?" she cried. Ginny grabbed Harry's arm, and pulled him into the room, completely ignoring Hermione. "Argh, I can only stall for so long, you know! Thankfully, Roxanne had written a beautiful song just for tonight, and she asked me if I would let her squeeze it into the program. I think she's almost done. I was so afraid you'd miss your speech, and I only have Ron, and, well, you know he's horrible at these things, which is why I put him between you two, so that maybe you could make everyone forget what he says if he makes a fool of himself."

"Which he will," Hermione muttered softly. Harry snickered, then caught himself. Ginny glared at him.

"Don't start," she warned.

Hermione glanced around the small room till her eyes found Ron standing by the fireplace with a tumbler of firewhiskey in his hand. When their eyes met, he gazed at her for a total of two seconds, then turned so his back was to her. _Subtle_ , she thought. Judging by his bloodshot eyes, Ron was either drunk, or he had been crying. Maybe both. This would not end well. She shuffled her feet nervously, trying not to listen in on Harry and Ginny's whispered argument.

"I can't get into this right now," Ginny was saying.

"It will need to be addressed at some point," Harry said.

"Not now," Ginny snapped. Then she turned to address Ron and Hermione with a fake smile. "Sounds like the choir is wrapping up. I'm going to go start the speech introductions. You three stay here until I call you. After you give your speech, go ahead and return to your seat."

Once Ginny had left the room, Harry crossed over to an armchair underneath an enchanted stained glass window. Hermione followed him and took the chair next to his. Ron turned to stare into the fire. The silence was deafening.

"So, Roxanne wrote a song?" she asked Harry. Roxanne had inherited a beautiful singing voice from her mother Angelina who had married George Weasley about two years after the war. Angelina and Roxanne were always putting on little shows at the Weasley family gatherings, and it was one of the many things Hermione missed about not being a Weasley anymore.

"Oh, yeah," Harry said. "She approached Ginny a few weeks ago, begging Ginny to let her sing it tonight. It's called 'Raise Your Wands'. Very touching."

Hermione nodded, and they drifted back into silence. She looked around her. Here was yet another place that carried important memories. Hermione let her mind drift back many years to their first night at Hogwarts when their whole year group had been crammed into this very room, anxiety and excitement warring with each other as they all anticipated what lay in store. All those fresh, young faces…

A couple hadn't been able to advance past first year. Others never came back once Voldemort's power began increasing. Still more were killed either during that year of the Horcrux hunt or during that final battle. There really were so few of them left now. If only they had known then that those same wide-eyed children gasping in fright when the ghosts came swooping in-

"The ghosts," Hermione suddenly said out loud.

"What about them?" Harry asked.

"I just realized I hadn't seen any of them all evening," Hermione said. "They're normally floating all over the place."

"Ginny arranged for them to have a memorial party of their own down in the dungeons," Harry answered.

"Like the Death Day party?" she asked with a small smile.

"Exactly," he nodded. "In fact, she said that's where she got the idea from. She wanted them out of the way. Didn't want anyone to get upset if they saw someone they knew."

"Harry!" Ginny hissed as she poked her head in through the doorway. "You're up!"

"Break a leg!" Hermione called after him.

She settled back in her chair and glanced at Ron's back, praying that she wouldn't be shut in here alone with him for very long. She could hear the polite applause from out in the hall as she assumed Harry took the podium.

"Do you know what all we're supposed to say?" she asked Ron timidly. "For our speeches, I mean. Any tips?"

He took a long, pull on his drink in what she guessed was his way of pointing out that he preferred to continue to ignore her. Oh well, she'd tried. She could figure this out on her own. What did Draco say again? _Honor the fighters, honor the fallen, toast._

Suddenly, she could hear Hagrid's voice in her mind. "Firs' years, this way!" She closed her eyes, and saw all of her classmates clambering into the boats, and felt a catch in her throat.

"Honor the fighters, honor the fallen, toast," she whispered to keep the tears and memories at bay. "Honor the fighters-"

"I know you're only with him to piss me off, 'Mione," Ron spoke up. "I just wish I knew why. What have I done to make you so mad at me? I gave you what you wanted. We're divorced. I moved on. So why are you dating Malfoy? Is it to try and get a rise out of me?"

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" Hermione asked indignantly. "I am doing no such thing! Why would I bring Draco as my date to try and, as you say, 'get a rise out of you'?"

"Please," Ron sneered. "You know that he's the one person on the planet I hate with a vengeance, and the last person I would ever want to see you with. 'Mione, I love you, a part of me will always love you. I'd be more than happy to see you move on, to find the happiness that I have with Gabrielle. Just not with Malfoy, okay?"

"Not okay," Hermione growled. "I like Draco. He likes me. But guess what? I don't care what you think! You do not get to dictate anything about my life, Ron. And for the love, _quit. Calling. Me. 'Mione_!"

An uproarious round of applause erupted from the Hall in perfect time to accentuate her statement. Ginny's head appeared in the doorway once again.

"Ron! Your turn!"

Ron strode out without so much as a glare in Hermione's direction. She seethed quietly for less than five minutes before Ginny reappeared.

"Oh, Hermione, it was just awful!" she moaned. "I don't know who let Ron drink so much, but he broke down in tears about thirty seconds in, and just mumbled incoherently about love for a few minutes before Harry finally got him down. I need you to go salvage this."

Hermione thought about telling Ginny everything she knew from Pansy and Daphne's conversation. She wanted to lay into Ginny about the nerve she had coming and asking Hermione for this when all she really wanted to do was walk out and never look back. After everything Ginny had been plotting, and all of the cold shoulders… _Stop. You're a grown woman. Be the better person._

"I'll do my best, Gin."

 **A/N: Raise your hand if you're ready for Hermione to Go** ** _Off_** **.**


	20. Chapter 20

Hermione strode up to the makeshift podium to a light round of applause. She tried not to feel irritated that the response to her own entrance was far less enthusiastic than it had been for Harry or Ron. _Smile anyways_ , she told herself. She drew in a deep breath and looked out across the crowd. When she caught Draco's eye, her smile became much more real at his crooked grin and subtle thumbs up. Then he winked, and she lost all thought in her mind.

There was a stirring deep inside of her that she hadn't felt in years, and she thought she'd quite like to examine that a little more later on if she could. Surprised by her own lascivious train of thought, Hermione blushed and quickly changed her gaze to just over Draco's platinum head.

The room had gone quiet, minus a scattering of whispers. She was taking too long to speak. She told herself that all she needed to do was open her mouth and the words would come. Surely, she had the most perfect things to say right inside her. Right? She chanced another look at Draco. He nodded, so confident in her. _Deep breath. Smile. Not too big though._

"I'm going to try my best to keep this short and sweet. You see,-" she looked at Ginny "-I was unaware that I would be expected to speak to you until I arrived this very evening." Ginny glared.

 _Honor the fighters_ …

"As I was waiting in the antechamber for my turn, I could not help remembering my very first night at Hogwarts. I pictured all of our fresh, young faces, so eager we were to climb aboard the boats and cross the lake." _Breathe_. "We were children called up to fight our parents' war; to finish what so many before us had been unable to do. We fought bravely. We fought valiantly. We used all of our wit and cunning. We succeeded."

 _Honor the fallen_ …

"There are many who did not make it through the war. The various attacks leading up to that final day, as well as the Battle here in this very Hall and on these grounds, claimed many lives. Family, friends, lovers; all people that we knew, and some that we knew better than others."

Hermione shifted her gaze to the tapestries hanging above; the ones showcasing the fallen heroes.

"Every one of us fought for what we truly believed in that day. We all held firmly to the beliefs that we were right, the others were wrong, regardless of which side we were actually on. We fought, bled, and died for a way of life that we hoped against hope we would live to see change the world as we knew it. In some ways, we _all_ lost that day."

The audience began to murmur fervently at her declaration, but Hermione continued on. _Toast_ …

"Please stand, and raise your wands." She paused as the chairs scraped back. "For all the fighters, we thank you." Sparks. "For all of the fallen, we thank you." Sparks. "Now, let us each take a moment to say a name of the fallen in remembrance."

Hermione closed her eyes and pictured a chubby, shiny face of an eleven year old boy who had grinned so broadly at her before they each entered their boats. Then, in her mind's eye, his face changed, aging to a harsh, broad seventeen year old on the cusp of manhood, pointing his wand at her as he fired off curses.

"Vincent Crabbe," she whispered. There were startled gasps up near the front, and Hermione grimaced as she realized that there were some sharp-eared listeners to her whispered tribute. She fixed her face to a mask of perfect calm, and looked out once more to the crowd.

"Thank you," she said very serenely, picked her pocketbook up from the podium, and made her way out to the crowd. She looked around for Ginny to take the reigns, but Ginny was standing in shock, her mouth agape, staring dumbly at Hermione. _Hmm, so Ginny was one of the ones that heard her_. No time to dwell on it. She gave Ginny a weak shrug, and turned to head over to meet Draco standing right in front of her.

"You said Vince's name," he said with such awe that Hermione couldn't think of how to answer. How could he have heard her whisper? His table was nearly in the back of the Great Hall. She hadn't used a Sonorus charm or anything.

"How-?" she asked.

"I read your lips," Draco replied. "Speaking of, have I told you how perfect your lips are? I have been dying to kiss you again since I picked you up at the hotel. May I?"

Hermione's face lit up. "Yes, please."

She leaned in and melded her lips to Draco's. There was that fluttering, and burning in her stomach again, as though an ancient beast had awoken after a very long sleep, and was now ready to feast. Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco's neck, pulling him closer to her. His fingers dug into her waist, gripping her tight.

"They're _snogging_!" she heard a voice gasp.

"No wonder she chose to honor a Death Eater in her speech," another voice hissed from behind Hermione.

Draco pulled away from her abruptly. His eyes were molten silver from the fire burning in them.

"Let's just go," Hermione urged him quietly. She'd be damned if she'd let a few angry bystanders talk them out of whatever this was before it even really got started.

"Never thought I'd see the day that Hermione Granger turned to the dark side," yet another voice nearly shouted.

Draco shut his eyes tightly. "You don't deserve this," he growled.

"What? A few angry whispers?" Hermione argued. "They can get over it. Let's go."

She clutched his hand, tugging on it to get him to move, then stopped. Not only was Draco not moving, but Ginny Potter had planted herself right in Hermione's path to the exit.

 _It's go time._

"Hermione, this has got to stop," Ginny said.

"What does?" Hermione asked, feigning innocence as she gripped Draco's hand firmly.

"This-" Ginny motioned to Hermione and Draco. "This whole charade you've been putting on. It's gone on long enough. You had your fun."

"Oh, my fun hasn't even begun yet, Ginevra," Hermione warned. "In fact, you are currently keeping me from my fun, and I don't appreciate it very much at all." She heard Draco choke back a laugh and grinned. Ginny took a couple steps closer. When she spoke, her tone was much softer.

"C'mon, Hermione," she pleaded. "This isn't you."

"How would you know, Ginny?" Hermione asked incredulously. Her voice rose to a shout. "In fact, how would any of you know what is or isn't me anymore? No one speaks to me! No one sends me owls! No one asks how I'm doing! Well, not unless they want to fake being supportive while they try to dig up some scandalous tidbit on me or the breakup of my marriage!"

"That's not true," Ginny argued.

"It's not?"

Ginny shook her head. Hermione grew even more incensed at the hurt look on Ginny's face, and came to a quick decision. She let go of Draco's hand.

"Where's Pansy Parkinson?" she yelled across the Hall. "Come one, I know she's here!"

The crowd parted as Pansy broke away from them, and came to stand beside Ginny, smirking. Ginny paled slightly.

"Pansy," Hermione began. "Is it, or is not true that you and Ginny have a deal worked out where I am considered, how did you say it, free game in your columns since I am no longer considered apart of Ginny's family, which is very rude by the way."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Pansy said in a bored voice.

"Now, now, Pansy," Hermione said. "Would you consider telling the truth if I said that I know who you're sleeping with?"

It was Pansy's turn for her face to whiten. "We may have something worked out similar to what you described."

"Pansy!" Ginny screeched.

"Hermione, what the hell?" Now Ron decided to join the party. "This is getting ridiculous. What are you trying to prove? I mean, you waltz in here all tarted up, and on the arm of a Death Eater…"

 _Silencio! Levicorpus!_

With two flicks of her wand, Hermione had Ron suspended upside down in the air and unable to speak. Wands were popping out all over the place, and aimed at her. It was time to remind everyone just who they were messing with. She feinted, making it seem as though she was throwing her wand to the ground. Instead, the entire crowd, excepting herself and Draco, of course, was thrown onto their backs with a bang. They lay there paralyzed, staring at her in horror.

"Sorry about that," she said with a shrug. "But this needs to be done." She looked up towards Ron dangling in midair. With another flick of her wand, he flipped right side up, still suspended however, and invisibly gagged.

"Ronald Weasley, earlier this evening you told me that I should be happy because you gave me the divorce that I wanted." Deep breath. "You were wrong. Pansy, take notes if you want your story. Ron, you were right when you said you gave me the divorce, but what you fail to realize is that I never asked you for a divorce. I asked you for a separation. I had hoped that we could work things out. Maybe we could try counseling, work through our grievances. You were my best friend for so many years. I wanted to stop resenting you. I wanted to be close to you again. I wanted you to start discussing things with me the way a husband should with his wife. Like, oh, just off the top of my head, talking to your spouse before you quit your job as an Auror to go work at your brother's joke shop. I wanted you to stop turning our children against me. But apparently all of that was just too much for you, wasn't it?"

She removed the silencing spell to give Ron a chance to say something. Maybe apologize, though she knew that that would be wishful thinking.

"So everything is _my_ fault?" he bellowed. "You're such an ungrateful cow!"

"And that's enough of that," Hermione said, and Ron went silent again. "You told my children that I'm poor when I am not. You also have been telling them that I refuse to pay you child support, when you know damn good and well that we agreed to share the costs of things as they were needed, and then you refused to ever accept a single Knut from me for their expenses. I thought you'd grown out of your insecurities when we were children, of always feeling like you were the least loved. Apparently I was wrong. You're so afraid of being overlooked that you felt the need to poison our children against me!"

"Hermione," Draco whispered urgently. "You're going too far."

"You're right," she said, feeling deflated as she saw Ronald's face screw up in pain. "You're lucky Draco's here to reign me in a little, Ron. You should thank him."

Ron roared in silent anger.

"I'm going to stop now," Hermione stated. "While there's still a chance for me to salvage a little of this evening." She looked tentatively at Draco, reassured when he reached out and took her hand. They began walking through the silent crowd, stepping carefully over the prone bodies. As they reached the door, Hermione turned back to face her oppressors.

"One last thing before I go," Hermione called out. "Ginny, Pansy's sleeping with James. Oh, and Ron? For old time's sake."

She smiled.

" _Avis_. _Oppugno_."

 **A/N: *evil grin* I just couldn't keep y'all waiting any longer for this. I can't wait to hear your thoughts. Also, please make sure you take a moment to follow my profile to keep up to date on my other stories, especially as this one is quickly coming to an end. On my profile, I have listed my Tumblr and Facebook pages. Be sure to follow those as well for all of my updates. Thank you!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: This chapter is my way of saying thank you for all of the rave reviews the last two chapters received. It contains scenes of a sexual nature, mostly just heavy petting. I have upped the rating from T to M. If you'd rather skip it, I will not be offended. Otherwise, grab yourself a glass of wine (or whatever your drink of choice is), sit back, and enjoy!**

As soon as Hermione and Draco crossed the threshold to the Entrance Hall, Hermione reached down to remove her heels. He understood exactly as they immediately broke into a run towards the carriages still waiting outside, bounding down the steps. They heard a roar of noise explode from inside of the castle as Draco shoved Hermione into the first carriage, then settled himself in on the seat next to her. Bodies began spilling out of the doorway of the castle, and Hermione saw the lights of spell-fire heading their way as the carriage took off like a bolt. She looked over to Draco, beaming, and let out a raucous laugh.

"That was so invigorating!" Hermione squealed. "Oh, I feel incredible! That was amazing! That was-"

"Slightly terrifying," Draco said.

Hermione sobered immediately. "Terrifying? You were afraid of me?"

"Granger, I've been scared of you since you knocked me across the face in third year," he smirked. "In a good way, of course."

"Oh, of course," she grinned.

"It's true," he said. "I've always been of the firm belief that a man should have a healthy fear of his woman, especially when that woman has a right hook and a fast wand such as yourself."

"His woman, eh?" Hermione ticked up an eyebrow. "You're claiming me now? After just a few kisses, and one night on the town?"

"I claimed you years ago, Granger," Draco answered as calmly as if they were talking about the weather. "I just had to wait a few years till you gained enough sense to ditch that husband of yours."

"And what about your own wife for all of those years?" Hermione asked him, remembering what Pansy and Daphne had said about Draco's crush on her. "Didn't she mind your supposed claim on me?"

"Well, seeing as she was sleeping with someone else for our entire marriage, I'm fairly certain she was okay with it."

Draco leaned back into his seat, pulling her feet up across his lap, and began massaging them lightly. Hermione tried unsuccessfully to stifle the little moan that escaped her throat. This whole evening had turned into such a surreal experience. She'd made new friends with people she had never thought she would talk to. She had unloaded so many grievances and resentments.

Best of all, she was in the back of a carriage receiving a foot massage from an incredibly handsome man who knew all the right things to say and could kiss like a dream. A tiny part of her mind told her that should be a red flag, that this was all too good to be true, but the voice shut up pretty quickly as Draco's hands started to massage her calves. Another involuntary moan erupted from her lips. Embarrassed, she opened her eyes to find Draco staring her, lust radiating off his face. She caught her lower lip in between her teeth, and he swooped in to take her lip in between his teeth.

"Ungh," she groaned, her chest heaving as his hands continued their path up her legs. Dear sweet Circe, she wanted to ravish this man right there in the carriage. She kissed him back in a fevered pace, while simultaneously hitching her dress up so that she could straddle Draco's lap. He more than willingly assisted, firmly planting her atop his trapped erection. She ground herself against him, pleased to hear that he was now the one moaning.

"Granger," he panted. "Hermione… we need to stop."

"No, I'm okay," she said, barely hearing him. She began kissing her way to his jaw, and then down to his neck. "This is okay, Draco. I want this to happen." The beast inside of her was fully awake now, and ready to devour him.

"No, Hermione, really," he breathed, pushing her away slightly. "We need to stop."

"What? Why?" she huffed, shoving her hair back from her face. Somehow, despite all of Tinkle's charms, her hair had come free, and she suspected that Draco's hands were to blame.

"Do you not want to do this?" she asked hesitantly.

"I don't know if I should be insulted or not that you can't tell how very, very much I want to do this," Draco answered, pushing his bulge against her for emphasis.

"Then why stop?" she said huskily, leaning down in an attempt to capture his lips once more.

Draco turned his head. "Because we're back at the hotel, and I'd rather not give any of its patrons a free show from the lobby."

"What?" She looked out the carriage window, and sure enough, there were two wizards standing as doormen and carefully trying to avert their eyes away from the parked carriage. "Oh! Oh, umm, yes, yes, you're right."

Hermione clambered off of his lap, a bit too ungracefully for her liking, landing on her seat with a plop. As Draco adjusted himself to conceal his very obvious bulge, Hermione dug around for her shoes, and secured them back on her feet. Draco smoothly disembarked the carriage, then held out his hand to help Hermione to the ground. The two wizards at the doors immediately straightened themselves into a professional position, holding the doors to the hotel open for the slightly disheveled couple.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Weasley," the doormen greeted with a bow.

"It's Granger," Draco and Hermione each said in correction. They strode purposefully to the elevator bank, ignoring the flashes from a couple of cameras. It's not as though everyone doesn't know by now that we were together tonight, Hermione reasoned with herself. She and Draco held their heads up high for the world to see as they entered the same elevator together. Once the lift doors had closed, Draco hesitated at the buttons.

"You're coming to my suite," she told him. Her tone was firm with no room for argument.

"Yes ma'am!" he beamed.

They rode up to the Badger's Den without talking, fingers brushing, as they exchanged flirtatious little smiles. The elevator must have been magically enhanced for they were standing outside of Hermione's door almost as fast as if they had apparated. Draco took the card key from her shaking fingers, and slid it in effortlessly. Something about the motion seemed so sexual to Hermione in her overheated state and she shivered. She took his hand, and pulled him across the threshold.

This was it. There was no turning back now. She was going to have sex with Draco Malfoy. Should she offer him a drink first? Should she grab him, push him back on the couch, straddle him as she had in the carriage moments ago? Or should she drag him straight to her bedroom, dropping her dress like some vixen in a movie?

"Whatever you're thinking, stop," Draco said in a low, seductive tone. "You wanted me to come up here with you, right?"

Hermione blushed. "I just hadn't planned out what would happen once we actually got here."

He reached out and took her hands in his, pulling her closer as he brought their entwined hands to his chest. "Whatever happens tonight, remember this: We are two consenting adults. Nothing will happen that we don't both want. Lastly, we're in this together."

"How do you always know the perfect thing to say?" she sighed dreamily.

Draco chuckled. "Would you believe me if I said it was from years of practicing for this very moment?"

"Not a bit," Hermione laughed.

"Ah, but it's true," he said. He led her over to the couch, pulling her down beside him, and once more draping her legs across his own. He began slipping off her shoes as he spoke. "You don't know how long I've dreamed up these impossible scenarios when I'd get you alone. Both of us finally single, of course. You can't imagine how nervous I was yesterday when you popped up off the floor in that train compartment."

"Is that why you were plying me with so much whiskey?" She reached over to run her fingers lightly through his perfectly messy hair.

"I did no such thing," he scoffed, leaning his head into her touch. "You'll recall that you poured every drink for yourself after I gave you the first one. Speaking of, do you have anything to drink in here?"

"Just touch your wand to the menu on the coffee table and speak your order. They have that wonderful wine that we shared in the bar last night."

She hoped he didn't see the relief flash across her face that he was choosing the safe option of drinks and conversation over jumping straight to bed. At his words, a chilled bottle of wine popped onto the coffee table accompanied by two wine glasses. Draco expertly uncorked the bottle and poured them each a glass. He handed one glass to Hermione before settling back into the couch cushions.

"Do you really keep my chocolate frog card in you wallet?" Hermione asked.

Draco choked a little on his wine. "Where in the world did you hear that?" She quickly explained to him about her trip down the corridors, and the conversation she'd overheard.

"So is it true?" she asked again.

"I cannot believe Tori told Pansy Parkinson of all people about that!" Draco groaned. "Yes, it's true. Do you want to see it for proof?"

Hermione nodded. She removed her legs from his lap, tucking them underneath her, as Draco sat up to pull his wallet from a pocket tucked inside of his robes.

"Here, take off your robes," she offered. "I'll hang them up in the front hall."

"Trying to undress me already, Granger?" Draco smirked.

She blushed. "Not quite yet, Malfoy. I just thought you'd be more comfortable without the bulky robes on."

"Very thoughtful," he joked, handing them over. She walked to the front hall, and hung his robes in the little closet provided there.

"I just remembered that we left our cloaks at Hogwarts," she said. "How will we get them back?"

"Tinkle!" Draco called out. With a soft pop, the diminutive little elf was standing in the living room.

"Master Malfoy calls Tinkle to Missus Hero Granger's room?" she said, bowing slightly.

"Tinkle, could you pop over to Hogwarts and retrieve mine and Hermione's cloaks?"

With another bow, Tinkle disappeared. In seconds, she was back, offering the cloaks to Draco.

"Thank you, Tinkle," Draco said. "That will be all for tonight." Tinkle popped away again, and Hermione took both cloaks to hang in the closet before joining Draco once more on the couch.

He held out the chocolate frog card for her to take. It was obviously well-cared for, though the corners were worn down. She stared down at her nineteen year old self. There she was, in all her glory. So fresh-faced, hair wild and spilling around her shoulders, a defiant gleam in her eyes as though daring anyone to mess with Gryffindor's Golden Girl. She'd never felt her old age more than she did in that moment of staring down at her young, wrinkle-free features.

"Where did you go?" she whispered to herself.

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked. "She's right here beside me."

Hermione shook her head. "No… no, this girl is long gone. I've changed so much, Draco, you couldn't understand."

"I still see her," he said. "In fact, she made a heck of an appearance in the Great Hall earlier."

She met his fiery gaze. His eyes were molten once again, and felt herself melting from his stare. "I wish I could see myself the way you do."

"Hermione, I'd be glad to help you," he said. "If I have to tell you every single day how beautiful and amazing you are, I will do it gladly."

Their faces were drawing closer together.

"I just may let you," Hermione whispered before meeting his lips with her own.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: If you had to skip the previous chapter for mature content, you'll want to skip ahead the first couple of paragraphs. Look for the bold knocks.**

The scene in the Badger's Den was really beginning to heat up.

Hermione's hands were fisted in Draco's hair. His hands seemed to be simultaneously everywhere yet nowhere of significance all at once. The beast inside of her roared with frustration till Draco finally grasped one of her breasts firmly in his hand. His thumb began rubbing her taut nipple through the fabric of her dress, and she groaned loudly. It had been way too long since she'd been touched.

She was laid back on the couch now. Draco was on top of her, his weight pressing down on her in such a glorious way. He began kissing his way down her neck, his fingers lightly brushing at the straps of her dress, slowly inching them downwards.

"Oh, _yesssss_ ," she breathed.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

"Did you hear that?" Hermione asked, alert.

Draco ignored her, choosing instead to refocus her attention by nipping playfully at her collarbone. One of his hands began ghosting up her thigh. _Oh gods_ , she thought as her body rose to meet him eagerly.

 _Knock! Knock! Knock!_

"Okay, I definitely heard knocking that time!" Hermione said. Who could be knocking on her door at this hour? The only people who knew she was here were Draco and-

"My kids!" she exclaimed. She hastily sat up, knocking Draco to the floor accidentally. "Oops! Sorry! But Draco the only people who know I'm in this room besides you are my kids!"

"Surely not!" he said. "Hermione, it's well past curfew."

"Which means it could be an emergency!" She stood up, straightening her dress, and trying desperately to flatten her hair. "Quick! Go hide in my bedroom! They can't see you here!"

 ** _Knock! Knock! Knock!_**

"Draco, please!"

Draco rolled his eyes and stormed away to her room in a huff. She mouthed a thank you to him before he disappeared behind the door.

"Coming!" She hurried over to the door to her suite, flung it open, and saw….

"Harry?!"

Instead of hysterical children, there stood Harry Potter. He gave her a sheepish smile.

"I was afraid you'd already fallen asleep, and wouldn't hear me knocking," he said.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked.

"Don't worry, I come in peace." Harry held out his hands, and Hermione saw that he was carrying two four-packs of Skol beer.

Hermione stood there gobsmacked.

"May I come in?" Harry asked, suddenly unsure. "I just thought we could have a little chat."

"Ummm…"

"Potter."

Hermione turned to see Draco standing in the living room. She was thankful that he'd at least buttoned his shirt back up. He must have heard Harry's voice, and figured it was safe to come back out.

"Well, I've obviously interrupted something," Harry said. "Luckily I have enough beer to go around." He pushed past Hermione, and made his way to the living room. Draco shot Hermione an incensed look, but she just shrugged. Draco rolled his eyes again.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" Draco asked. "Shouldn't you be with your wife this time of night?"

"Nah, I figured Hermione could use a friend tonight," Harry said, pulling three of the beer cans off their plastic rings, and popping the tops. "Besides, Ginny always sedates herself with Dreamless Sleep and ear plugs after these big events, and probably won't wake till noon. She won't even know I'm gone!"

With a big grin, Harry held out two of the beer cans to Draco and Hermione. Draco crossed his arms across his chest, glowering at Harry. Hermione was still in a little bit of shock,but slowly closed the door to the suite and made her way to Harry, taking one of the cans.

"The way I understand it, Potter," Draco growled out through clenched teeth. "You haven't been such a good friend to Hermione for quite some time. Why start now?"

"Draco," Hermione warned.

"No, no, let your boyfriend speak, Hermione," Harry said.

"He's not-" but Draco silenced Hermione with a look.

"Malfoy's right," Harry said, and Hermione thought she's die of shock from hearing those words out of his mouth. "I haven't been a very good friend. I should have been there for you through the divorce. It wasn't very fair to you. I was trying to stay as neutral as possible, but I failed spectacularly, didn't I?"

Hermione nodded. Draco finally reached over to pluck his beer from Harry, and sat himself down on one of the armchairs. Hermione sat down on the end of the couch closest to him,and Harry took the other armchair.

Draco took a gulp of the beer. "Ugh! What is this? It tastes like piss!"

"It's piss," Harry replied.

"No, it's Muggle beer, though mostly young Muggles drink this brand," Hermione explained. "It's an inside joke of ours. After the war, Harry and I got to talking one night about all of the typical teenaged things we missed out on. We went out to a Muggle store, asked a very confused clerk what teens liked to drink, she suggested Skol beer, and we took it to a local park and proceeded to get rip-roaring drunk off of cheap beer like normal kids."

Harry smirked. "Now, it's become our thing. Anytime either of us is down or needs to talk, the other shows up with Skol."

"Ron and Ginny never understood," Hermione mused.

"How did you get ahold of cheap Muggle beer in Hogsmeade?" Draco asked, taking another tentative sip. "Nope, can't do it. Hermione, hand me the wine please."

"I apparated," Harry shrugged. "Wizards can do that you know."

Hermione laughed. Draco just shook his head.

"Ooh, I have an idea!" Hermione piped up. "Let's take this to the terrace! There's one right off the main bedroom, and I haven't yet had a chance to enjoy it. C'mon! It'll be like sitting out in a park like kids!"

They each picked up some drinks, then traipsed through to her Hermione's bedroom to the balcony, Draco sticking close to her side the whole time. There were only two chairs and a little table, but Hermione quickly transfigured them into fluffy pillows for them to sit on. Draco cocked up an eyebrow at her when she patted the cushion next to her, then sat down with a mild huff. They all sat with their backs to the glass, staring out at the black mountains etched into the inky sky as they sipped on their drinks.

"Potter, this is your party, as they say," Draco said. "What did you come here to say?"

"Well, how about we start with the proverbial elephant in the room?" Harry said then paused to take a long swig of his beer. "How long has this been going on?"

"Truthfully?" Hermione asked. "We reconnected yesterday on the train ride up here."

"Reconnected?" Harry grimaced. "Don't tell me you two-"

"Oh, grow up, Potter!" Draco yelled.

"No!" Hermione answered. "We haven't… we've not… well, you know…"

"Were you about to? You know? Is that what I interrupted?"

"Seriously, Harry, stop!" Hermione pleaded, a bright red blush creeping over her cheeks.

"Yeah, Potter," Draco added. "Get your mind out of the gutter. Besides, Hermione and I are two grown adults. What we do is our business, and no one else's."

"May we please talk about something else?" Hermione asked.

"Okay," Harry said with a nod. "Malfoy, what are your intentions with Hermione?"

"Really, Potter?" Draco growled.

"Draco, please." Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "Harry, Draco and I have yet to discuss either of our intentions, and when we do, it will not be your business. We enjoy each other's company. Next topic. Preferably one that doesn't revolve around mine and Draco's relationship."

"Hmmm…. Let me think," Harry said. He took another long pull from his can.

"Actually, I've got one," Draco said. "Potter, did you know about your wife's plotting against Hermione all these years?"

Hermione drew in a quick breath, then looked to Harry anxiously.

He swallowed hard. "Uhh, sort of."

The night just got very interesting.


	23. Chapter 23

It took Hermione approximately three seconds to process what Harry had said, but both of the men with her out on the balcony recognized the moment that she had registered his answer as she went from stunned silence to fiery glare. Her eyes were scorching. Her hair seemed to be crackling with static electricity. Her fingers twitched. Harry took a nervous gulp, but before he could speak any further, Hermione sliced one hand in the air to halt him.

"Draco," she hissed slowly. "Would you be so kind as to retrieve my wand from the living room?"

"Granger, do you really think that's necess-"

"Get it!" she screamed.

With a huff, Draco stood. "All I was going to say is that you're so angry, I'm sure you could channel your magic wandlessly."

"Oh, sorry," Hermione said. "You're right. My apologies for yelling at you."

"Dude!" Harry glared at Draco. "Where's the solidarity?"

Draco ticked an eyebrow up. "Really, Potter? You think I'd choose solidarity for you over her?"

"True," Harry agreed before turning back to Hermione. "Before you start firing wandless hexes my way, hear me out. Please."

Hermione stared him down. "You know, Harry, I really don't think I should."

"What?" Harry was aghast. "But you have to let me explain!"

"Why?" she demanded. "Why should I? You've known that Ginny and Pansy were conspiring against me for how many years now, and for what? What did I ever do to deserve this kind of treatment from anyone? Can you tell me that? What did I do that could make Ginny and you hate me so much other than choosing to divorce Ron? Can you say anything that will make this better? Huh? Can you?"

"Hermione, I don't-"

"No, Harry, you can't apologize for this." Hermione stood up, and walked over to the railing. She stood there, flexing her itching fingers, before turning back to Harry. "I fell out of love for Ron. Is that such a bad thing? Does it really warrant all I've been through from you and Ginny? Should I say I'm sorry that I'm choosing to be happy with the years I have left, instead of staying in a loveless marriage just so we could all grow old as a quartet? Do I really need to apologize for that?"

"I don't think so," Draco said. "We all deserve happiness in our adult years after the childhoods we had."

"Thank you." Hermione smiled at him. "See, Harry? Draco gets it."

"That's because you're not listening!" Harry yelled. "I didn't know the extent of it, not really."

Hermione shook her head. "You just said you knew!"

"I said that I sort of knew!"

"Ugh, semantics," Draco said, settling himself back down on the cushions. He patted the cushion next to him. "Come on, Granger. Let's hear the spectacled git out. You can still hex him if you don't like what he has to say."

"Seriously?" Harry growled at him.

Draco shrugged. "She's bloody gorgeous. You're not. I side with her."

Hermione couldn't help but grin. "Thanks, Malfoy." She situated herself closely beside him on the cushions, feeling a little tingle as their thighs rubbed against each other. Another small thrill went through her body as he draped one arm casually across her shoulders and pulled her closer. She could definitely get used to this, she thought, as she inhaled his citrusy scent. Tentatively, she raised a hand up, and blushed as Draco immediately laced his fingers with hers. Her gaze drifted downwards, subconsciously trying to trace the outline of Draco's equipment with her eyes, and wishing Harry would hurry up and leave.

"Are you done?" Harry asked.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked without bothering to look up.

"Molesting Malfoy with your eyes," Harry said. "Are you done?"

This time she looked at Harry, staring him down with an icy glare. "I was doing no such thing."

"Liar."

Draco squeezed her fingers. "As loathe as I am to agree with Potter, yes, you were, and I was rather enjoying it too. Let's wrap this up now." Hermione's face flushed again, sharing a small smile with Draco before the couple turned their attention back to Harry. "You say you knew, but you didn't really know about all of your wife's scheming against Hermione. Explain."

Harry nodded. "It's like I said; I didn't know the extent of it all. Back when Pansy came onboard at the paper, I remember Ginny talking about how she needed to get Pansy on our side."

"Our side meaning…?" Hermione prodded.

"I assumed the family's side," Harry said with a shrug. "Maybe she just meant mine and her's though. I don't really know now. I'm not stupid, Hermione. I know that Gin's always had this thing about protecting me from the harsh glare of the spotlight or something. I've noticed that the papers only seem to promote myself and our family in the most positive way, and when Pansy was hired on, I thought it would be Rita Skeeter all over again, but Ginny said she'd handle her. I thought she had."

"And when my name was being drug through the muck," Hermione said. "You didn't notice, or…?"

"Honestly, I never thought to question it when Pansy suddenly started circulating that picture of you on the tube," Harry said, his head hanging low. "I'm really sorry."

"It's okay, I guess," Hermione mumbled. "On second thought," she said more clearly, "no, it's not. I don't blame you for this, Harry, but do you have any idea why Ginny would turn on me like this? Is it just about the divorce?"

Harry took a deep breath before answering. "Listen, you'd have to ask Ginny that. I can't answer for her. She's her own person, and only she knows why she did what she did. I do know that she was really upset when Ron showed up at our house saying you'd kicked him out."

"I didn't-"

"Hermione, I'm only telling you what we knew," Harry said. "Ron told us you'd kicked him out suddenly, so that's what we believed. You say we don't talk to you anymore, but you stopped talking to us a long time ago."

"What?" Hermione gasped. "I did no such thing!"

"Really?" Harry asked. "You didn't tell me you were having trouble with Ron. You didn't tell Ginny either, and you two were like sisters. Hell, you were sisters, and I was your brother! I've been your brother since we were kids, long before you married Ron, long before you ever even kissed him! Then I was blindsided by your separation."

"Harry, I-"

"Why didn't you talk to me?" Harry asked. "You could have told me what was going on."

"How?!" Hermione pulled herself from Draco's embrace, leaning forward to confront Harry. "Yes, you were my brother, but you were _his_ first! And if I _had_ come to you, and told you I was thinking of leaving Ron, what would you have done, huh? I'll tell you what! You would have tried to talk me into staying. You would have played mediator as you've always done with us. And then what would have happened? Ron would have felt betrayed that I spoke to you about our marriage. 'That's our private business,' he would have said. He would have told me that I had no right to talk to you about it at all, though it never stopped him from running straight to your door, did it? He would have turned sullen, and ignored me, just like he always did. Hell, just like he _actually_ did. We would have had the same outcome, just with more fighting."

Harry just stared at her silently, as Hermione took several deep breaths before, once again, leaning against Draco. He pulled her back in, rubbing her arms to calm her, and placing a kiss against her brow.

"Was it really that bad between you two?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes," she whispered, surprised by the tears that sprang to her eyes. "By the end, Harry, we were barely speaking. The love we once had- it was just… gone. There was no coming back. I would have been willing to try. At least, I _think_ I would, but I don't believe we _could_ have come back. There were too many years of resentments built up."

"I still wish you'd have talked to me," Harry said.

"I know."

"You really believe it wouldn't have helped to just have someone to talk to?" Harry asked.

She shrugged. "Who's to say now? It may or may not have. We'll never know."

Harry cast a sideways glance at Draco before his eyes landed back on Hermione. "I'd like it if you'd talk to me, you know, in the future."

Draco scoffed. "Subtle."

Hermione just laughed. "We'll see."

"Well, on that note," Harry stood up from the cushions, dusting off his slacks. "I should probably get back to my wife."

Hermione and Draco stood as well, and Draco even reached his hand out for Harry to shake. Harry raised his eyebrows at the gesture, his lips ticking up at the corners, before accepting the handshake.

"Be good to her," he said. "I mean it. I've cursed you before, and I won't hesitate to do it again."

"Oh, hush," Hermione scolded him before drawing him in for a hug.

"Send me an owl," Harry told her softly. "Please."

She just nodded.

"I'll show myself out," Harry said, pulling away from Hermione. "Feel free to keep the beer."

Hermione watched him go, then turned back to Draco with a grin.

"Now…." He reached out for her, pulling her tight against his length. "Where were we?"

 **A/N: Sorry I'm a couple days late with this chapter! Life's been crazy busy! Also, only about two, maybe three chapters left, y'all! Eek!**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: I just do what the voices in my head tell me.**

"Draco, wait."

He eased back from the spot under her left ear that he had just begun to nibble. "Do you not like that? That's okay. Just tell me what you want."

"I want to talk," Hermione said.

Draco leaned back in, his breath tickling her ear, as he placed tender kisses along her jaw. "Are you sure? Haven't we talked enough for one night?"

"Draco…." she warned.

He pulled away, this time turning her around so that her back was flush against him as he whispered in her ear. "Look, the sky is already beginning to lighten. Let's not waste these last few hours."

She wanted to succumb, she really did, especially as he said "Teach me how to please you. I want to learn everything, Hermione, in the time we have left here."

There it was. Again, he'd spoken words of finality; that their time together was drawing to an end. Did he not want to continue getting to know each other after this one night? Was this it? What was to happen when the sun rose? Would whatever this was between them vanish with a puff of smoke as they went back home to their regular lives? Hermione Granger would not be Draco Malfoy's one night stand. With that decision made, she pulled away from his tempting lips and hands.

"Bring the wine to the living room," she told him firmly. "We need to talk."

"Nothing good ever comes from a witch saying 'we need to talk'," Draco huffed. "And why go to the living room? Why not have it out right here?"

"We're not having anything out!" Hermione argued. "We're going to the living room because I want to be comfortable, and I need to use the loo first. Now, grab the wine."

Hermione left him to grumble to himself on the balcony as she marched into her bedroom, fishing her sleepwear out of her bag on her way to the bathroom. It had turned into an abysmally long night thus far, and she was beyond ready to get out of her dress. She left the gorgeous red dress in a pool on the floor after she changed, then paused for a moment to study her reflection in the mirror.

She was getting too old for this shit.

She stood there in her sensible pjs with a gorgeous man waiting for her in the other room. A man who, for reasons unbeknownst to her, wanted to give her something that she hadn't had in far, _far_ too long. A voice inside her head was screaming and pleading to just go with it, just for one night, and worry about the rest when the time came, but she couldn't lower herself that far. Or could she?

"No," she told her mirrored self. "We've been over this. I will not be a one night stand."

Hermione mustered her resolve, threw her hair up into a knot, then questioned whether or not to remove her makeup while she was at it, just to really drive the point home that sex was no longer on the menu for tonight. She reached for the cleansing wipes sitting out on the counter, then hastily withdrew. She may be determined to try and make a go of things with Draco, but she wasn't ready for him to see her crow's feet just yet.

Was this what dating was like at forty-two? She wouldn't have thought twice around Ron, as she'd rarely worn makeup except for special events. That was how love was when you'd known the person your whole life. Though, when she thought about it, she'd known Draco just as long. He'd seen her unmade face plenty of times before, just not with wrinkles. This was all just too much to think about! She needed to leave this bathroom now, before she had anymore time to overthink everything, and before Draco thought she was pooping.

"Sorry I took so long," she called airily as she crossed into the living room.

Draco stood as she entered, ever the gentleman, and she clearly saw the mixed emotions shadow his face as he took in her appearance. _Point made_ , she thought. She curled her legs up under her as she took one end of the sofa, cozying into the cushions. Draco resumed his seat on the other end. He offered her her wine glass, which she took, yet immediately set down on the table.

"You changed," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.

"It's been a really long night," she said. "I needed to get out of that dress."

Draco nodded, his eyes cast down to the floor. "So, you wanted to talk?"

Hermione called up her determined attitude from before. "Yes. I believe it's necessary before things continue any further."

"Draco," she continued. "Earlier on the balcony, you kept saying things like 'let's not waste the time we have' and such. Do you not want this- whatever we have going on- to continue past tonight? I need to know before I allow anything else to happen. I won't be a one night stand. That's not my style."

He finally met her eyes. "Truthfully," he said. "I didn't think you would want anything to continue past tonight. I thought that I was just part of your 'queen of the ball' fantasy."

Hermione was baffled. "Why in the world would you think that? Have I been so unclear with my actions and words that you think I'm not feeling something for you?"

"No, no, I know that's not your style," he said. "But Hermione, let's be real here. You're Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor princess, one third of the famed Golden Trio, and I'm, well, me."

"And what's wrong with you being you?" Hermione asked softly.

"I'm Draco Malfoy!" he yelled. "I'm a former Death Eater. I bullied you throughout our entire prior history. I called you racist slurs-"

"And I've forgiven you!" she fired back."We went over this just last night! Or have you forgotten?"

"Hermione." He gazed at her with pleading in his eyes. "It won't be easy being with me. No one would understand."

"So what?" she countered. "Everyone already knows! They saw us just hours ago! What changed?"

Draco fisted his hands in his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. "Yes, and they weren't subtle at all with how they felt seeing you on my arm."

Hermione shook her head. "And? They'll get over it!"

"I want more for you," he said sadly. "I have wanted this for so long, truly. You can't know how many times I dreamed that you would fight to be with me, but…" He sighed. "Let's just say that hearing those angry voices directed your way really emphasized how much you deserve better than Draco Malfoy."

"That's not your decision to make, Draco," she said. "And I don't appreciate you trying to make it for me."

"You don't understand," he said. "At least Astoria felt that she had her own taint to her name, so she didn't care what people said about me."

"You're really going to bring your ex-wife into this?" Hermione yelled. "That's a low blow. And I'm not some bloody perfect saint on a pedestal, Draco! I have faults! I have taint and tarnish!"

"You don't have _this,_ " he smiled wryly, rolling up his left sleeve to reveal a faded, gray skull with a snake exiting its mouth.

Hermione was stunned. All those years they had just assumed that Draco had taken the Dark Mark, though none had actually seen it. Carefully, so as not to scare him off, she reached across the space between them, and laid her hand upon the Mark.

"Draco," she said. "We all have scars from that period of our lives that we live with. Believe me, you're not alone."

He closed his eyes. His chin trembled, as though fighting back tears, and he rested a hand on hers. They sat there like that for several heartbeats, neither one daring to break the silence. Draco broke first.

His eyes still clenched shut, he said, "Do you really think we could do this?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm game if you are."

 **A/N 2: I know this chapter is shorter than I've been doing lately, but I had to cut it off here or else I won't have enough for the next chapter. With that said, one chapter left, y'all.**


	25. Chapter 25

Hermione awoke with mascara-crusted eyes, cursing her vanity for not removing her makeup before she had fallen asleep. Her tiredness was also to blame, as she and Draco had stayed awake for about two more hours before he'd retired to his own room over in the Slytherin wing just as the sun had peeked out over the mountains.

She had stayed true to her resolve of not having sex with Draco even after declaring herself to be willing to try and have a relationship with him. They talked quite a lot; Hermione telling him that Ron was the only man she'd ever been with, and that Draco would be the first man that she'd even considered dating since her marriage ended.

Draco had revealed that Astoria had allowed him to have relations outside of their marriage. Hermione couldn't honestly say that she'd been surprised by the news. It would have been awfully hypocritical of Astoria not to allow such a thing when she had Katie.

"But wouldn't most men be ecstatic to find out that their wife likes to have sex with women?" Hermione had asked him. "Or am I just horribly naïve?"

"I'm not a monster," he'd explained. "She's a lesbian, Hermione, not bisexual. And it's not as though I was dying to get in her pants either. I barely knew her when we got married."

They had never even consummated their marriage, Draco had said. On their wedding night, Astoria broke down in tears at the thought of having to sleep with her new husband, and had finally confessed her secret to Draco, and told him of her relationship with Katie Bell. Hermione thought Draco had taken the news much better than she would have if in a similar situation, though it really was hard to compare.

From nearly the first day of their marriage, Astoria had lived in a separate wing of the manor from Draco, with Katie in an attached bedroom. Their son had been conceived via artificial insemination.

"But that's Muggle medicine!" Hermione had gaped.

"We had an heir to produce," Draco had said. "Just a quick confundus, and the doctor thought we had been trying for years with no results."

The official story was that Katie was Astoria's live-in assistant, though Hermione couldn't help wondering why an unemployed society wife would even need an assistant, much less a live-in one, but no one else seemed to raise even an eyebrow at the tale for all of those years. Hermione now knew that Pansy had been diligent in keeping the real story out of the papers, and because of that, the Wizarding world was shocked as the news of the divorce slowly made its way around. Draco and Astoria had done well to keep up the appearance of a happy marriage. When they broke up, there had been many rumors of infidelity on Draco's part, though no proof was ever found. He had covered his tracks well.

"I travel a lot for my business," he'd said. "Oh, yes, you'll be very pleased to know how much I've truly changed. I am practically Muggle these days, and in more ways than just developing their technology to fit my business. I fly on those tin cans they call airplanes, I drive, and I even stay in Muggle hotels!"

"I _am_ impressed," Hermione had told him.

Draco had nodded. "Well, that's where I used to meet my dates, for lack of a better word. I hate the term 'one night stand'. Anyways, I would usually meet a Muggle woman in the hotel bar –"

"Ah, like you met me last night?" Hermione had joked.

"Not at all the same," Draco had said.

"Oh, sorry."

"So, I'd meet these women," he'd continued. "They were oftentimes traveling on business like me. Sometimes we'd just talk and have a few drinks, just for the company, you know? Other times, we'd do more. I'd always alter their memories afterwards, just in case. Astoria knew everything, but I still tried to be careful. I kept her secret, she kept mine."

"That sounds miserable," said Hermione.

"It was a little," Draco had said sadly. "Not entirely, but yes, a little."

Sure, Draco hadn't been totally miserable. Sexless marriage aside, he'd still had a great friendship with Astoria that they'd built over the years. He'd even found a good friend in Katie, and then there was Scorpius to consider as well.

The three of them had raised Scorpius in a warm, loving household. He didn't know the full extent of his mother and Katie's relationship, but he did know that his parents slept separately and loved him unconditionally regardless of anything else.

Hermione's thoughts drifted to her own children. Did they know the same about her? That her love for them was bigger than life itself? That even if she weren't married to their father anymore, she would never stop from giving them everything she had? And what would they think of her new relationship? They'd accepted Gabrielle easily enough. Would they pay the same courtesy to Draco?

It wasn't exactly the same situation though. Gabrielle had always had a presence in her children's lives. Hermione had suspected that Gabrielle had had feelings for Ron for years, and she always seemed to be around at every Weasley gathering. I never made sense to Hermione at the time, that a beautiful woman like Gabrielle would move away from home to be closer to her sister in the very prime of her life. Had she just bided her time, knowing that one day Hermione and Ron's marriage would fail? Had Gabrielle rushed to console Ron the second she'd heard the news?

Probably. And just as he'd proven years ago with Lavender Brown, and then later Hermione herself, Ron never could pass up a woman throwing herself at him. Honestly, Hermione was less surprised by their relationship, and more surprised by the fact that it had been going on for such a long time without Ron putting a ring on Gabrielle's finger yet.

Hermione rolled over to look at the clock. Damn. Checkout was in one hour, and she was still lolling around in bed as though she had all day to waste. Why, oh why, had she opted for early checkout? Though it's not like she could have predicted that she would spend the majority of the wee morning hours with Draco Malfoy of all people. She had assumed she would be more than ready to get the hell out of Hogsmeade this morning, and be back in her flat in London with a cup of tea well before noon. Now she won't be home before dinner if Draco has his way.

"Ride the train with me," he had said. "It'll give us more time to spend with each other before our regular lives intrude."

"We'll see," she'd told him.

She rolled out of the extremely cozy blanket cocoon, and hurried to the bathroom for a shower. No time for dilly-dallying today. She just washed everything off, and was soon using her wand to dry her hair. Normally when she found herself in such a rush, Hermione would have forgone any makeup, but the thought of possibly spending all of that time with Draco on the train again had her conjuring some light, natural makeup charms. She then quickly threw on a pair of well-worn jeans and an old Montrose Magpies tee. Her hair was already starting to frizz, so she pulled it up into a messy topknot yet again.

Thirty minutes left. She could do this. She made a frantic dash through the suite, locating any lost shoes, scarves, and her cloak from the front closet, tossing them haphazardly into her bags as she went. After one final check, she made her way down to the front desk with ten minutes to spare.

She now had an hour before meeting Draco at the train station, or she could just apparate home like she'd originally planned, and send Draco an owl when she was ready. Sure, he'd be disappointed, but she would see him soon. At least, she thought she would. Even with all of their conversation, they hadn't discussed what their schedules were, or when they would even see each other again.

Her stomach grumbled loudly, demanding her attention. If she apparated now, she could make lunch at home. Wait, no. She thought about the meager contents of her fridge, and realized she needed to go to the store before she could make even a simple sandwich. Surely it would just be easier to pop into one of the pubs here first.

But where to go, Hermione wondered. The Three Broomsticks was out, as that was where Ron and Gabrielle were staying. She really didn't fancy the thought of having lunch with them a few tables away if they too had chosen an early checkout as unlikely as that was. Maybe she could hop over to the Hog's Head? No, that might be too depressing since Aberforth was gone. Should she just dine here at the hotel? But what if Harry and Ginny came by? She wasn't ready to face either of them yet, though she knew that Ginny would need to be dealt with at some point.

Hermione set off down the streets of Hogsmeade, and finally found herself at what she hoped would be the last place anyone would see her, Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop. She indulged herself with a few of Madame Puddifoot's little sandwiches, several cups of tea, and even a tiny slice of decadent cake before looking at her watch and realizing that the time had come to make her decision. Would she apparate home? Or would she ride the train?

It felt to Hermione like one of those make or break moments. Last night, or this morning to be more accurate, she had told Draco that she was game. If she apparated, would it be a symbol that she wasn't truly ready? That she was unable to truly choose him? If she met him at the train station, any doubts would be erased in the minds of the other passengers. Yes, almost everyone they knew had seen them together last night, but that was before even Hermione and Draco knew what they wanted from each other. For all the bystanders knew, last night was a one time deal. If Hermione joined him on that platform, however, it would be clear as day that this was something more; that after all this time, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had found each other.

That was all it took for Hermione to make her choice. She placed her money on the table, gathered her things, and made her way out of the tea shop. Once outside, she closed her eyes and focused on her destination as she whirled into nothingness.

Once she reappeared, she opened her eyes to find a very impatient looking Draco standing right off of the Hogsmeade train platform.

"I was starting to think you weren't going to make it," he said with a smile. He reached out to take her bags, then asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she said. "I'm ready."

 **Author's Note: I was late to the Harry Potter party. I was even later to the fanfiction party. I discovered fanfiction when I started using Wattpad to post some original fiction that I had been working on. (It has since been taken down while I completely rewrite it.) Almost immediately after I found fanfiction, I found Dramione. At first I was a little confused. I did not know that such a ship existed, and it took me awhile, and several really bad stories, to find the amazing stories that made me say "Ohhh, now I get it!".**

 **My husband is a huge Potterhead, and he's the one that made me read the books for the first time. (Not Dramione. He refuses to even try to understand this ship, but whatever.) We often have debates about canon pairings and other things from the stories. (Don't get me started on groceries in the Wizarding world. Seriously.) After reading one too many head girl/head boy stories, I finally explained my frustration at what I felt were unbelievable storylines. At the time, I was a huge stickler for following canon. Fanfiction newbie, remember?**

 **"Where are the stories about Hermione getting sick of Ron?" I would ask. "Let's face it! Even JKR has said they wouldn't work without marriage counseling! Why isn't anyone writing about Hermione divorcing Ron, and making a new life for herself?"**

 **"Why don't you write one?" my husband asked.**

 **So I did. I had no idea where the story would go. I just started writing a few sentences that turned into a few paragraphs, and soon the first couple of chapters of After All This Time were born. Then, something happened that changed everything. I read The Deadline by Lena Phoria. I distinctly remember telling my husband "Well, crap. She wrote my story!" She told a tale of an older divorced Hermione finding a new life so much better than I could, and I quit.**

 **After having my son, and as a way to cope with the stress of being a new mom, I retreated back to the Harry Potter books. My muse started talking to me again. My original fiction wasn't working, yet the muse demanded I write, so I picked up Hermione again, and here we are.**

 **This story is far from perfect. I know that. You're probably also wondering what happens next. What will their kids think? Has Hermione truly forgiven Harry, or will she drop him and the rest of the Weasleys like a bad habit? I left those unanswered on purpose.**

 **You see, this isn't the last you'll hear from me. I have a lot of Dramione stories in the works, and I am already planning a sequel for this tale, tentatively titled "Time After Time". Follow my author profile to be kept updated on that.**

 **Lastly, thank you for reading. Some of you have been with me since almost the first post, and I still get giddy every time I see those names pop up on my reviews. Whether you've been following from the beginning, or you've just now discovered me, believe me when I say that I love each and every one of you, and I hope you'll stick with me on this journey.**

 **-Elle**


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